Twelve Days of Flash Fic
by ladylibre
Summary: COMPLETE! "For the twelve days of Christmas, please let me give to thee..." I present a random assortment of twelve stand-alone one-shots featuring our favorite Twi characters. Stories vary in length and plot, AU, AH, and/or OOC, but they're all inspired by the wonder of the Christmas season. I ho-ho-hope you'll give them a try!
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: Madame Meyer owns everything in the Twiverse. I'm just a crazy fic writer who just had to do something for Christmas this year.**

 **Greetings and salutations, all! Last week, I got this brilliant idea to do a "Twelve Days of Flash Fic" collection for Christmas—for which MarieCarro Vanadesse made me an absolutely stunning banner—which means twelve updates in twelve days.**

 **Somebody get me some sanity for Christmas!**

 **Now a flash fic is typically verrrrrrry short—like 100, 200, 300, 500, or maybe 1,000 words—and that was my intent when I cooked up this idea. But so far, I have two completed entries that are 2,200+ words, and another that's about halfway done and 1,200 words already. So take "flash fic" with a grain of salt, okay?**

 **Each chapter stands alone, and POVs/pairings will change throughout. A hearty "Thank you" to everyone who submitted story ideas/prompts in the No Rules thread. Your voices have been heard! Oh, and it's Rated M just in case.**

 **Okay, here we go!**

* * *

 **PROMPT: A Christmas Miracle (suggested by Karen Day)**

 **Word count: 2,442**

 **Edward's POV (AH)**

Jasper's new girlfriend was freaking me out.

She wasn't being loud or obnoxious—a huge relief after two years of Mouthy Maria—but she kept staring at me.

No. That wasn't quite it.

She kept... _looking_ at me. Not in lust or confusion or even disgust. No, it was... it was almost like she was trying to look _through_ me or beyond me or something.

And even when I caught her staring, she didn't turn away or seem embarrassed like a normal person would. She'd just tilt her head slightly, as if getting a better read on me, and then gradually put her attention somewhere else. But no matter where I was in the room or what else was going on, I could feel her staring at me.

And it was seriously giving me the creeps.

"Hey." Bella came up to me with two cups of egg nog. "This party is much tamer than last year's, thank goodness."

I glanced at Uncle Alec's full glass of whiskey and heard his wife cackling as she set up the karaoke machine. "Give it time."

"Aw, but you love it when Aunt Jane butchers the holiday hits. Her rendition of 'Santa Baby' still haunts my dreams."

"Yeah."

Bella studied my expression. "What's wrong?"

"She's doing it again."

"Who's doing what?"

I hid my mouth behind the cup Bella gave me, certain _she_ could read lips. "Alice. She's staring at me again."

"Oh." Amusement lit up my girlfriend's eyes as her gaze roamed my face. "I told you you're too beautiful for your own good."

I rolled my eyes as I always did when she said things like that. "Your bias is not helping right now."

"First of all, I'm not biased. I'm right." She kissed my cheek to punctuate her point. "And second, you know Alice is a little..."

"Crazy? Deranged?"

"Clairvoyant," Bella clarified, setting her cup on the end table. "She predicted your friend Emmett would give up football to become a nurse, which nobody saw coming. She saved your parents from a stomach virus last month by insisting they cancel their reservations at La Bella Italia. And she managed to find the last Nintendo Switch in town for Aro and Amun. At a gas station. On Christmas Eve."

"I know." The sound of my twin nephews gaming it up in the den was certainly proof of Alice's... er, talents. "But that doesn't make her staring at me any less weird."

"Just try to enjoy yourself, okay?" Bella stood on tiptoe to nuzzle my ear with the tip of her nose. "And if you do, I promise you a very merry Christmas night back at my place."

The thought of unwrapping my favorite present in the privacy of her apartment banished all thoughts of Alice's weirdness from my brain, and I turned to Bella with a slow smile. "Well, ho ho ho."

"Oh, I'll be your 'ho ho ho'." Bella kissed me lazily, humming against my lips before pulling away. "For now, I'm gonna find a quiet corner and call Charlie. See if we're still on for brunch tomorrow."

"Try my dad's office. No one should be in there."

"Okay."

I watched my girlfriend walk away, marveling at how easily she made everything in my life instantly better. I didn't know what I'd done to deserve her devotion, but later tonight, I would take my sweet time showing her exactly what she meant to me.

"Edward."

The interruption made me jump, and egg nog sloshed over the rim of my cup as I turned around...

...to find Alice holding out a small stack of napkins.

"Thanks," I said and dried my hands, avoiding her gaze as long as possible. I set down my mug and swiped some stray moisture from my sweater, stuffing the used napkins into the empty cup.

When I finally looked at Alice, she was closer than I remembered, her bright blue gaze fixed on my face, and I fought the urge to take a huge step backwards.

"Take out the trash," she said.

"What?"

"Take out the trash."

"Take out the..." I looked past her into the kitchen and saw my mother lifting a full white bag from the kitchen can. "Make your boyfriend do it," I said. "He needs to pull his weight around here for once."

"Put it in the neighbors' can three doors down," she continued as if I hadn't spoken. "The neighbors to your left not the right."

"But that doesn't make any..."

She gripped my wrist. "Now, Edward."

I wanted to ignore her. To tell her she was psycho and weird and everything Christmas ghosts are made of.

But something in her eyes wouldn't be denied, so I swallowed a sigh and went into the kitchen, approaching my mother with an outstretched hand. "I've got it, Mom."

"Oh, thank you, honey." She passed me the trash bag with a grateful smile. "You're a life saver."

I slipped out the back door and stopped at the foot of the stairs. Instinct wanted me to go toward the right side of the house where we kept our trash cans. But Alice's insistence made me head left instead, going around the back of our house toward the street.

After passing the first two houses, I looked ahead and noted with relief that the Gilmores' house was dark, saving me the shame of having to explain myself.

Not that I would have known what to say anyway.

As I approached the Gilmores' cans, I heard someone gasp across the street. Afraid I'd been caught, I looked up sharply but didn't see anyone, so I shrugged it off. Then out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a cascade of blonde hair poking out from behind the old oak tree.

And when the owner of that hair emerged and stepped under the street light, I froze in place with a gasp of my own, staring at her in shock.

"Rosalie?" I barely got the word out. "Is it... is it really you?"

"Oh, Eddie..." She raced toward me with shining, violet eyes. "It's me."

"Rosie-girl." I threw my arms around her, shivering as she buried her chilly face in my neck. "Oh my god..."

Trails of moisture slid down my neck as she squeezed me, freeing me to release tears of my own without shame or restraint. Because Rosalie... my twin sister and first best friend... was in my arms.

We'd seen the signs long before she did: the barely veiled insults Royce delivered with a slick smile, his dismissal of anything in her life outside of him, the way he gripped her wrist instead of holding her hand. Our parents tried to warn her, and Jasper went full-on big brother and threatened Royce's life every chance he got. But Rosalie had always been headstrong, fearless, and hopelessly romantic, and it was her heart's ambition to become Mrs. Royce King III.

So when they eloped three years ago, we were horrified but hardly surprised. Rosalie sent us picture-perfect images from her Caribbean wedding, her smile somehow wide without quite reaching her eyes. Mom tearfully observed how the makeup was thicker on Rose's cheeks than anywhere else and how Rose wore a tightly knotted scarf in every photo despite the supposedly balmy weather.

And we realized her dark glasses weren't just protection from sun glare.

We begged Rosalie to come visit us, to let us come to her or meet somewhere neutral... to do anything anywhere so we could "put our eyes on her" as Dad often said. And she would always make plans, elaborate ones full of activity and general merry-making, but she'd never show up or call to explain why.

About two years ago, Rosalie left my mother a whispered, rambling voicemail, swearing that she was fine but just needed some distance from us. Mom called the police, and Dad took on a second job to pay for a private investigator, but it was like Rosalie had vanished. We knew she was still alive—because the alternative was too horrible to fathom—but we had zero proof to sustain the claim.

And now, from the shadows of Christmas night, my sister was back.

"Let me look at you." I pulled back to cup her face, noting how she flinched when I touched her cheeks. "Rosie-girl..."

"It's okay, Eddie-boy." She tried to smile, but the tears made it difficult. "I'm okay."

"Are you?" I released her cheeks and settled for taking her hands. "Are you really?"

"Yeah. Getting there, anyway."

We stared at each other in soft silence until the moment caught up with me, and I grabbed her hand with glee. "Well, come on! Mom and Dad are gonna completely..."

"No." Rosalie pulled her hand away, looking ashamed. "I don't... I mean, I want to see them; I really do. But... but not with all those people in there."

"Oh, of course." I ran a hand through my hair, annoyed with myself. "I'm sorry."

"Look, I'm... I'm staying with Renata's best friend not too far from here and..."

"What?" All traces of calm disappeared. "Royce's sister knows where you are?"

"Yes," she said slowly, understanding my ire. "But she's good people. She and Carmen, they... they helped me get away."

My heart sank and relaxed all at once. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"Okay." I pulled out my phone. "Give me the details."

Rosalie gave me Carmen's address and phone number, adding Renata's just in case.

"What about yours?" I asked her.

"I, uh..." She scuffed her boot against the ground. "I had to get rid of my phone. He was using it to track me, so it wasn't the safest..."

"That's okay. You don't have to explain."

"Yes, I do. There's , um... there's a lot we'll need to talk about, things that I need to explain and be honest about. And..."

"And we don't have to do any of that right now," I said gently. "Okay?"

She nodded, hunching her shoulders as she shoved her hands in her coat pocket. "So tell me about you. Did you ever get your own place?"

"I thought about it. But it didn't... I mean, I thought it might be better if I..."

"If you waited until I was home so they wouldn't lose both of us," she finished for me. "I get that."

"Actually if you wanna know the truth." I lowered my voice. "I didn't want to leave them alone with Jasper."

She laughed, loud and long, and we were instantly six years old again, trading silly secrets under the covers.

"I also have a girlfriend," I continued. Rosalie raised her eyebrows at my blush, and I cleared my throat. "I met her... uh, Bella... at Madeleine's Muffins about a year and a half ago. I really think you'll like her."

"If she's making you act like this, then I kind of love her." She tilted her head, appraising me. "It's good to see you smile, Eddie."

"It's good to see you at all, Rosalie. You have no idea."

"I have some idea. That's actually why I came tonight. I mean, it's Christmas, you know? And I just... I just needed to see it all again."

"Right. And you weren't going to knock on the door?"

"I thought about it. But when I saw all the cars in the driveway, I realized it wouldn't be a good idea. My first time back at home will be wild enough without adding Crazy Jane, her drunk husband, and the karaoke machine into the mix."

I shook my head with a chuckle. "She was warming up her voice when I stepped out."

"God help us all." She glanced around, her gaze eventually landing by my feet. "Where were you going with that?"

"What?" I looked down, having completely forgotten about the trash. "Oh, uh... our cans are full, the Nelsons keep theirs in the back, and the old Cope house is vacant. So I... I had to walk all the way down here."

"Wow. I actually stayed this far down the street on purpose, assuming no one from our family would spot me if they came outside." She shook her head with a small smile. "Crazy how you found me anyway."

"Yeah. Crazy."

A blue sedan turned the corner and flashed its lights three times. Rosalie turned toward it and waved. "That's Carmen."

The car stopped behind us, and Rosalie brought me over. Carmen lit up when Rosalie introduced me, and I'd never been prouder to be her twin. Carmen assured me that Renata was on Rosalie's side and had no love for her brother.

"He will never find her," Carmen hissed. "Not if we have anything to say about it."

Rosalie beamed at me. "See? I'm in good hands."

Carmen reiterated how nice it was to meet me, and I could only wave, choked up at the realization that my sister would be going away again.

"Hey, now." Rosalie took my hands and waited for me to look at her. "You know where I am now, and I'm getting a new phone tomorrow. You'll never lose me again."

"You promise?"

"I promise." Familiar fire blazed in my sister's eyes. "Because I'll never lose myself again."

I enveloped her in another hug. "I love you, Rosie-girl."

"I love you, Eddie-boy." She kissed both my cheeks, tearful happiness rolling down her smiling face. "And, um... Merry Christmas."

My heart throbbed. "Merry Christmas."

She got in the car, Carmen honked twice, and I watched them drive away, standing in the street long after the taillights faded from view. Wiping my eyes with my sleeve, I plunked the all-important trash bag into the Gilmores' can and headed back home.

When I walked through the back door, Bella was plating pumpkin pie on Christmas-themed saucers while Mom dolloped them with her famous homemade cream. Both women smiled at me, Bella's gaze lingering.

"Everything okay, baby?" she asked.

"Yeah," I said. "Better than okay."

From my position in the kitchen, I spotted Alice by the fireplace, gazing up at the family photo above the mantle. A candid shot from our high school graduation, it was one of the happiest moments I'd ever shared with my sister, and I marveled that tonight I'd been blessed with another one.

As the thought passed through my mind, Alice turned and looked right at me, her knowing blue eyes holding me captive. And I was so grateful that I wanted to run across the room and hug the living daylights out of her.

But I didn't. Because that would have been crazy.

* * *

 **(Anyone know where the Madeleine's Muffins reference comes from?)**

 **Hope you enjoyed the first story! See you sometime tomorrow with the next one!**


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: Madame Meyer owns everything in the Twiverse. I'm just a crazy fic writer who just had to do something for Christmas this year.**

 **You guys are the best! I'm so glad y'all are digging Christmas this flash fic idea. Thanks for all the love and follows and such... they really make this fun for me.**

 **Okedoke, let's go to the next one!**

* * *

 **PROMPT: A guy and gal both dressed like Santa kiss on the sidewalk. (suggested by Amy Gale)**

 **Word count: 1,702**

"This is discrimination!" Alice cried. "Misogynistic, disrespectful, and downright un-American!"

The spectacled store manager was unfazed by her tirade. "Look, lady. I appreciate your modern sensibilities. But you can't be my Santa."

"Give me one good reason why not!"

He frowned at his notes. "You don't meet the requirements."

"Are you kidding?" She indicated her jolly red suit and hat. "I look just like him!"

"You may have the right clothes, but there's still the issue of your height and gender." He flipped to another page on his clipboard. "Oh, and your, uh... disposition."

"Excuse me?"

"Santa is supposed to have a calm, soothing presence, and you're... well..."

"I'm _what?_ "

The manager had the good sense to look away. "You have the personality of a spirited elf."

"An elf?" she all but shrieked.

"Yes." The manager looked back at her with a gleam in his eye. "You wouldn't want to be Santa's Elf, would ya?"

"I don't want to be an elf!"

He shrugged. "That's too bad."

"What's too bad is your refusal to open your eyes to the possibilities of..."

"Listen," the manager said not unkindly. "I get what you're trying to do, and it's admirable, really. I think we should be more inclusive in our representations of recognizable characters."

"So what is your problem?"

"My problem is that children come here expecting someone resembling the Santa they know, the recognizable Santa they believe will bring them toys on Christmas morning. And I cannot and will not disappoint them."

Alice instantly deflated, having no good response to that.

"So thank you for coming in, but I still have other people to see." The manager looked behind Alice and waved the next applicant forward. "Next!"

Alice turned around to find a brown-skinned Santa with the perfect beard and belly, and she smiled at him, hoping he might have better luck.

She dragged herself back through the department store the same way she came, emerging onto the street with a heavy sigh. With Christmas just a few weeks away, passersby smiled at her attire, assuming she was brimming with holiday cheer. But the way she felt just then, Alice suddenly understood why the Grinch stole Christmas.

She turned with a huff to go back to her car and slammed right into someone. "Oof!"

"Hey," came the low, easy reply. "You trying to steal my thunder?"

Alice looked up and found herself face-to-face with a slim, curly-haired stranger in a Santa suit. His hazel eyes sparkled as he watched her, and Alice was at a temporary... and extremely rare... loss for words.

"Usually when someone tries to knock me over, I get an apology." He shoved his hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels. "And I've got all day."

"Oh! Sorry!" Alice felt her cheeks redden, and she took a deep breath to steady herself. She noted his attire and said, "Actually, I just came from there, so don't bother. The manager lacks imagination."

He looked at her quizzically. "What?"

"The Santa job."

"What Santa job?"

"This one." She walked him over to the display window, pointing at the "Santa needs help!" sign propped in the otherwise traditional North Pole scene. "After a week on the job, Santa up and quit late last night, and Newton's needs to hire a replacement ASAP. They mentioned it on the radio this morning."

"Gotcha," he said. Then he looked her over. "And you went in to apply for the job?"

"Yes."

He nodded slowly. "I see."

Alice watched as his expression morphed into amusement, and she narrowed her eyes at him. "What?"

"What what?"

"What's with the face?"

"What face?"

She nearly stomped her foot in frustration. "That face!"

"This face?" The stranger patted his cheeks frantically then sighed. "Ohhh, okay. Yeah... this is totally on me. I should have put on my other face."

"What?"

"My other face. See, I don't have these problems when I'm wearing my other face. But this face?" He shook his head. "This face only gets me in trouble. It's the face that kept me on the naughty chair in preschool, the face that made my nana always think I was trying to sass her, and the face that got me booted out of middle school chorus after one rehearsal. 'Course, that could have been because I can't sing worth a lick and..."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

The man blinked. "What do you mean?"

Alice exhaled loudly through her nose. "Can we get back to the subject at hand?"

"Of course. But, uh... could you tell me what that subject is? Because I thought it was my face, but you got really upset when I started talking about that."

"Oh my go..." Alice shut her eyes, counting backwards from ten under her breath. The sounds of the city somehow anchored her, and after a moment, she felt calm enough for rational conversation... or whatever this was. She opened her eyes and looked at him, but once again, she found herself unable to speak. It was like her train of thought had come to a mesmerized halt, and all she could was stare.

For his part, the man seemed completely unbothered by her inspection, whistling a happy tune as if he had not a care in the world. The melody was vaguely familiar to Alice, but she couldn't place it right away, no thanks to her sluggish brain, of course.

But when she finally recognized the song, her fascinated stare became a fiery glare.

"Are you seriously singing 'We Are Santa's Elves' right now?"

"What? It's a catchy little number. And everybody loves that Rudolph special they run every year." He caught the shift in her stance and how she pursed her lips. "Well, maybe not everybody."

Wisely, the stranger left the elves alone and picked up a far less controversial tune. Alice instantly recognized that song and was soon humming along with him in spite of herself. "Gotta love Mariah Carey," she said.

"That's Madame Mimi to you, elf hater."

"I don't hate elves." She raised her chin a little. "I just don't want to be compared to one."

"Who would ever compare the wonder of you to an elf?" he asked. Alice raised an eyebrow, and he gasped. "You... you think that's why I was singing that song?"

"The thought did cross my mind."

The stranger stepped closer, his gaze never leaving her face. "I would eternally renounce my Nana's pecan-toffee cheesecake before I would ever do such a horrible thing."

Alice didn't know this man or his nana from Kris Kringle and Suzy Snowflake. But she could not doubt the sincerity of his words, so she nodded. "Okay."

"I thank you for believing me, but now we have a different problem." He glanced at the store window. "Because it sounds like you're saying this buffoon of a store manager did call you an elf, and that I cannot abide."

"Well..." Alice thought back on her job interview. "He didn't exactly call me an elf. He said I had an elf-like personality and asked if I'd rather be Santa's Elf than the big guy himself. So... I guess he was complimenting me in one way while saying I was all wrong for Santa in another way."

"I don't see how you could ever be wrong for anything."

She snorted. "Tell that to my parents."

"Oh, I plan to," he said seriously. "But we're getting a bit ahead of ourselves."

Alice shook her head, mashing her lips together to curb her smile. "I don't even know what to say to that."

"No, I didn't get it," said a voice passing behind her. "And we both know why." Alice turned and saw the brown-skinned would-be Santa talking on the phone while getting into an Uber. He snatched off his beard, and from the slam of the car door, she knew their professional fates had been the same.

"Friend of yours?" the stranger asked, drawing her attention.

"No, he was also here to..." Alice looked at the stranger again. "Can I ask you something?"

"Every day and twice on Sunday." When Alice blinked at him, he said, "That means 'yes.' "

"If you're not applying for the Santa job, what's with the outfit?"

He looked down at himself and shrugged. "Meh, this is just my Saturday suit."

Alice barked a laugh, drawing the attention of some passersby, and she covered her mouth. But the stranger gently pulled her hands from her face, tsking softly. "Don't be hiding that smile. I've waited my whole life to see something that pretty."

"You say that to all the girls."

"Nah. Only the ones who dress like Santa and look like sunshine." His seeking gaze ghosted over her face as he leaned down to whisper, "Please tell me you're single."

"Yeah." She was leaning toward him and quickly straightened herself, smoothing the front of her Santa suit. "I mean, yes, I'm single."

"Are you free now?"

"Yes." She heard herself adding, "I'm actually free for the rest of the day."

"What about the rest of your life?"

Her heart fluttered, but she merely smirked. "I think we're getting a little ahead of ourselves."

He laughed aloud, his pretty eyes dancing. "Tell me your name, Sunshine."

She stuck out her hand. "Alice. Alice Brandon."

"Alice-Alice Brandon." The stranger lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. "The pleasure is all mine."

Alice shivered when his warm lips met her cool skin, though from the temperature difference or sheer delight, she couldn't rightly tell. "There's, uh... there's only one Alice," she managed to say.

"Oh, I know. But a name that nice must be said twice."

She rolled her eyes despite her smile. "And just who are you?"

"I'm the luckiest man alive to have met you, Sunshine." He bowed slightly. "But my name is Jasper Whitlock."

She rolled his name around in her head, loving the feelings it inspired. "It's nice to meet you, Jasper."

"As I said, Alice-Alice." He subtly licked his lips. "The pleasure is all mine."

And as Alice looked in his eyes, she became fairly certain that the pleasure would also be hers.

Every day and twice on Sunday.

* * *

 **And speaking of Sunday, I'll see you tomorrow! XO**


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: Madame Meyer owns everything in the Twiverse. I'm just a crazy fic writer who just had to do something for Christmas this year.**

 **SO sorry for the delay. Sunday is my family's busiest day, my fickle laptop had trouble staying charged, and I couldn't get the very end of this story to work until about five minutes ago!**

 **Anyway, it's still Day Three, so let's get to it!**

* * *

 **PROMPT: Shirtless couple kissing while tangled in Christmas lights. (suggested by Jamie Michelle Mitchell)**

 **Word count: 1,379 (AH)**

Bella stood with her hands on her hips, frowning at the room. "This is unnatural."

"Using an artificial tree?" Edward adjusted the faux fir's position in the tree stand. "Or spending Christmas in Jacksonville?"

"Both! Why did we move here again?"

"To be near your parents. I think it's sweet."

"It is sweet that my dad finally retired and wants to soak up the Florida sun with Renee for the next 30 years. What's not sweet is the total lack of Christmas in this town."

"There's plenty of Christmas here." Edward walked over to the window and pointed across the street. "See? They've got a crop of candy canes growing out of the front lawn..."

"... next to a bed of blooming begonias."

"And an army of inflatable snowmen by the garage..."

"... that are half-deflated in this ridiculous heat." She flopped on the couch, glaring at their non-functioning air conditioner. "It's not supposed to be 92 degrees in December! There's supposed to be snow and sledding and chestnuts opening on a roasted fire."

Edward's lips quirked in amusement. "What was that last one?"

"You know what I mean." She fanned herself with the air conditioner manual. "I'm glad we moved here and know I'll get used to it, but it... it's just too hot to feel like Christmas."

"Well, there is one very, very good thing about all this heat." He took his time crossing the room, looking her up and down and wiggling his eyebrows. "Topless tree trimming."

"I'm wearing a bra."

"Yes, but it's rather see-through." He bent down to kiss her. "So technically, you..." Kiss. "Are..." Kiss. "Topless."

"So are you." She leaned into the kiss, dropping the useless manual to run her hands all over his bare chest. Her body warmed as he pulled her toward him, and she pushed him away with a groan. "Ugh, it's too hot for that, too."

He chuckled. "You're adorable when you're cranky."

She huffed, folding her arms. "I'm not cranky."

"But you are adorable." He retrieved a box of lights from the other side of the room. "Listen, why don't you sit and detangle these?"

She watched him walk into the kitchen. "In here?"

"It's a little cooler than the living room, and there's an outlet right there." He set the box on the floor next to the dinette set. "You can plug up the lights and see if any of them are out."

She took a reluctant seat at the table. "And then we can go get ice cream?"

"With whipped cream and cherries on top."

"Okay." She looked up at him. "I'm sorry I'm cranky."

"But you're not cranky." He kissed the top of her head. "You're adorable."

Bella smiled and removed the first string from the box, plugging it into the wall. The bright bulbs bathed the kitchen in multicolored light, and she sighed in childlike wonder. Balmy weather or not, this was her absolute favorite part of Christmas and the reason she insisted on putting up the tree every December 1st. And as she unraveled the first part of the twisted strand, she had to admit she felt better. Edward clicked on the radio, and they worked in amiable silence as classic holiday favorites played in the background.

Bella had finished the first strand and was halfway through the second when Edward yelped in triumph. "Yes!"

"What happened?"

Edward leaned out from behind the tree. "I think I've found something that might cool you down."

"You did?"

"Yeah, look!" He watched her come to her feet, looping the second set of lit-up lights around her neck, and ducked around the tree again. "But be careful. Bare feet and broken bulbs don't mix."

She nodded, picking her way toward him. "I got 'em."

"This might be a long shot," he called out. "But I think it could really work."

"Well, let's just see what you've..." As she rounded the tree and saw him, she stopped dead in her tracks, her brown eyes widening. "Wh-what... what is..."

"This?" He held up a velvet ring box. "This is something that might cool you down."

"Edward..."

"I mean, it might..." He opened the box to reveal a filigreed silver band with a modest square diamond. "If you call it 'ice.'"

Bella gasped and covered her gaping mouth with both hands, but Edward shook his head.

"Now hold on, Miss Swan. If you do that, I won't be able to hear your answer." He carefully dropped to one knee. "And I really wanna hear your answer."

She gave a watery smile and clasped her hands instead, clamping her lips shut.

"Much better." His expression further softened, and she felt the moment shift. "Bella, I am a simple man who is simply crazy about you, adorable crankiness and all. And I want nothing more than the honor of loving you for the rest of my life." He paused, swallowing hard. "Bella... baby, will you marry me?"

Bella stared at Edward, her heart full to near bursting, and covered her mouth again. He pursed his lips in mock admonishment, but she could only shake her head then nod rapidly.

He tilted his head with a bemused frown. "So was that a 'no' _and_ a 'yes' or should I..."

"Yes!" She threw up her hands. "Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!"

Edward whooped and came to his feet, shoving the ring box in his pocket as Bella and all her lights pounced on him. He caught and swung her around and around, laughing and squealing as she kissed him all over his ecstatic face.

When Edward finally set Bella down, they both were good and tangled in the colorful bulbs, literally lit up in love. Edward carefully removed the lights from around them, setting them on the floor. He pulled the velvet box out of his pocket, his hand shaking a bit as he slid the ring onto her finger. Bella was so busy looking at her hand that she missed his considerable relief that the ring actually fit. He'd asked Renee to get Bella's ring size, but even on her best day, his future mother-in-law wasn't the most reliable source.

But, he supposed, even a stopped watch is right twice a day.

Bella grinned and cooed at her new favorite finger, turning her hand to admire the ring from this angle and that. "Edward, it's... it's so beautiful."

He kissed the tip of her nose. "You're beautiful."

"I cannot believe you did this. I just..." She leaned her forehead against his, happy tears threatening. "And today of all days."

"I know how much this day means to you," he murmured. "And I wanted to give you another reason to love it."

"You did so more than that. You gave me yet another reason to love you." She felt moisture on her cheeks and swiped it away. "And I do love you, Edward. So, so much."

"I love you, too." He kissed her gently, his eyes shining with joy. "And I can't believe this is really happening."

"Me either." Bella kissed him again and snuggled into his chest, closing her eyes to relive the moment he changed her life. And when she replayed his ardent, beautiful words, she opened her eyes on a gasp and shoved him to the floor.

"And I can't believe you called me 'cranky'!"

Edward looked up at her, startled by his new position. And as Bella stood over him and took in his expression, she gave him a sheepish smile.

"Maybe I am a little cranky," she said, offering him her hand.

"Oh, you definitely are. But..." He took her hand and pulled her on top of him, earning a delighted peal of laughter from his bride-to-be. "You're also adorable."

"I'll show you 'adorable'."

Bella brought her knees to either side of his waist, cupping his face as she kissed him deeply. She slowly rolled her hips against him, moaning into his mouth as he responded in kind.

"I thought, uh..." He swallowed hard as she nibbled on his neck. "I thought you said it was too hot for this."

"Oh, it is hot, Mr. Masen." She slowly sat up, holding his gaze as she unhooked her bra. "And it's about to get much, much hotter."

* * *

 **And that's number three!**

 **Thanks for the continued love and patience. See y'all tomorrow... though hopefully not so late in the day!**


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER: Madame Meyer owns everything in the Twiverse. I'm just a crazy fic writer who just had to do something for Christmas this year.**

 **My days are totally getting away from me, but I am committed to posting every day until Christmas... and never again doing anything this insane without prewriting the whole thing, LOL!**

 **Anyway, here we go with Day Four!**

* * *

 **PROMPT: Just an idea that popped into my head. (AH/OOC... Hurt/Comfort)**

 **Word count: 1,442**

On a narrow bed in a nondescript room, a man lies on his back. He has already counted the cracks in the low ceiling—eleven with three forming—and traced their jagged paths from end to end. It has been as fine a way to pass the time as any other and relatively harmless as potential habits go.

He is a rather calm fellow for the most part, having little tolerance or use for extremes, so his current situation could be seen as acutely difficult. But he does not see it that way and never will, and that is the source of his peace, the reason he can be so relaxed in such a place. Indeed, with an arm behind his head and his opposite leg bent at the knee, he is the picture of ease and contentment.

His thoughts drift back to his earlier conversation with his mother, which was more like a maternal monologue with the occasional nod or shake of his head thrown in. She commented on his hair, his weight, and the condition of his skin, and he let her cluck and fuss over him, realizing it was more for her benefit than his. And when she finished her inspection, she tilted her head and sighed.

"Just tell me why," she'd pleaded with watery eyes. "Can you just tell me why? Your father and I... we're trying to understand, but it's... hard not to think the worst."

He'd looked at her then, frowning at her words. She thought she was thinking the worst, that the current state of affairs was indeed that.

He knew different, saw different. He'd seen the worst, tasted its rabid bitterness on his tongue, and she couldn't have handled it.

But he could. So he did. With zero regret.

He'd given up trying to explain things to them—his parents, their friends, and the world at large—months ago. They all thought he had made an awful mistake, one that would ruin the rest of his life. But if they knew what he knew and felt what he felt, then they would know not only did he have no choice, but he had made the right decision. The only decision.

"If only you seemed sorry," his mother had said, blue eyes pleading. He noted she'd said 'seemed' sorry, knowing he wouldn't actually _be_ sorry. "If you showed just the slightest bit of remorse… Maybe things wouldn't be so bad right now. Maybe... maybe there might be a chance."

He'd nodded along as a dutiful son should, understanding the place of worry from which her opinion came. But things were worse than bad, and there was zero chance that would change.

Especially after his last interview.

"If you could have it to do all over," they'd asked. "If you could go back to that moment, have it back, would you do the same thing?"

"No," he said without hesitation. "I would not."

Murmurs of satisfaction rippled through the crowd, proverbial tongues wagging.

"I would do more," he continued, his voice hard and low. "I would do more and do worse. Hell, I might try to kill him twice."

And those were the words that sealed his fate.

Fifteen to life. His mother had screamed when they said the words; his father's face went stark white. The gathered spectators roared in reaction—some outraged, some disappointed, all sufficiently scandalized—but he remained still. He did not speak, blink, or move, and his stoic response only hardened the court's attitude toward him.

They sent him to a prison on the furthest edge of the state, a fourteen-hour drive without traffic from the house he grew up in. His mother has made the trip twice in the last year. The first time, she was told he was not allowed to have visitors, and she cried so hard the paramedics had to be called.

That was the first time he felt anything resembling guilt about what he had done.

This time, the trip she made this morning, was based on her love of tradition, of family, and of an absolute refusal to spend a second Christmas Eve in a row without seeing her baby boy.

"Are you well?" she'd asked, reaching for his hands.

"Yes." And he was telling the truth. "I have everything I need."

She frowned at that, wishing he'd show just a glimpse of the person she thought she'd known. "I don't know what to say to that."

He took her hands, aiming to soothe. "Merry Christmas, Mother."

She attempted a smile and failed. "Is it?"

The visit ended then, for his mother wanted to get back to the hotel and rest. A random well-wisher—his aunt's neighbor or his father's second cousin—had volunteered to take the wheel on this trip, knowing it would be too much to make alone. His father has officially refused to come anymore, declaring that "if his son was fool enough to do the crime, he needed to be man enough to do the time."

But his father was mistaken—he wasn't a fool to do the crime. In fact, it was in doing the crime that he became a man.

A brief shadow falls across the window in his door, and he is instantly alert. Though resigned to his chosen fate, he does not enjoy the random beatings, the arctic showers, and the other such delights to which those in his position are often subjected. Some of the guards resent him more than they do most prisoners for he refuses to give them the satisfaction of a reaction. No matter how hard they punch, how pointedly they insult, or how much they deprive him of, he will not break.

For they cannot break a man who broke himself to be where he is.

The shadow moves, sliding open the metal slot through which his meals and medication are usually shoved, and the prisoner walks toward the door. If it's time for another prescription cocktail, he needs to prepare in order to hide the pills under his tongue without detection. Most inmates welcome pharmaceutical assistance in making the time pass faster, but he wants no such help. No, he wants to be conscious throughout his incarceration, to feel every passing second in the marrow of his bones, behind his eyelids, and in harmony with every heartbeat.

Because every moment of captivity for him is a moment of freedom for someone else.

Anticipating a small plastic cup, the prisoner is surprised when a letter slides across the tray into his cell, fluttering to the ground without a sound. And as he bends to retrieve the letter, he is further shocked to discover it has not been opened. Leaving it on the ground, he stands up and looks out the narrow window in his door, but the shadow has already moved on, likely to avoid being identified. The rules regarding correspondence are strict and always enforced, and any guard caught violating them would face immediate termination.

Why anyone would risk such a fate on his behalf, the prisoner does not know. But he picks up the letter and carries it to his bed, studying the envelope. He recognizes neither the return address nor the handwriting, and the realization only increases his curiosity. His short nails make the business of opening the envelope more difficult than necessary, but finally, after a few fumbles, he pulls out the letter and spreads it open on his bed.

And when he reads what is written, his heart nearly stops.

 _"There are no words, no way to fully express all I feel because of all you have done. But in the few lines I have been afforded, let me say three things:_

 _1\. Thank you for killing my husband._

 _2\. When I saw what you did to his body, the savage way you beat him to death... I felt as if I could breathe again._

 _3\. I do not know when you'll get this—and I pray it is a matter of "when" not "if"—but know that whenever you do, I will be thinking of you and thanking God that my husband hired you as our chauffeur last year. You saw in four months what no one cared to see in four years, and such a debt I could never repay._

 _But perhaps I can summarize my eternal attempt with these five words:_

 _You are my life now._

 _Esme_

Pressing the letter to his aching chest, Carlisle closes his eyes and sighs her name, a soft smile about his lips. Snow begins to fall, a gentle breeze blows, and somewhere in the world, a caramel-haired angel soars on new wings.

* * *

 **This story is soooo much different than the others, but I hope you enjoy it just the same.**

 **See you tomorrow! XO**


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER: Madame Meyer owns everything in the Twiverse. I'm just a crazy fic writer who just had to do something for Christmas this year.**

 **Well, I'm a day late, but this story is about twice as long as the longest one so far. So let's just call it even, eh?**

 **(And for the writers among you, I have an AWESOME writing tip to share in the closing A/N. Totally worth a try!)**

 **FYI: All movies/plots referenced in this story are my own inventions. I mean, I was already writing a story—why not also create a movie plot? LOL)**

* * *

 **PROMPT: Hallmark Christmas Movie Bingo. (I saw an image on FB, and the idea came to me.**

 **Word count: 4,790 (AH)**

"I think this is everything." Bella looked around the 5th floor common room. "At least, it should be."

"No need to think." Alice whipped out her phone. "I have a checklist."

"Of course you do," Rosalie muttered with a smile.

"Blankets?" Alice asked.

"Check," Bella said. "Pillows, too."

"Drinks?"

Rosalie looked at the console table behind the large sectional. "Check."

"Did Esme drop off the cider?"

"And her homemade hot cocoa mix," Rosalie said. "Best R.A. ever."

"She really is," Alice said. "Sustenance?"

"Did somebody say 'sustenance'?" Emmett asked as he bounded into the room, pausing at the food table.

"We did." Rosalie met him there, swatting his hand when he tried to take a red velvet cake ball. "But we didn't say you could have some."

"Aw, don't be like that, babe." Emmett wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling her ear. "Because if I recall correctly, you said I could have some last night."

"Argh!" Alice covered her ears. "I do not want that image in my head, thank you very much."

"Sorry," Rosalie said, though her smile suggested otherwise. "It's not my fault your cousin is so hot."

"Ew, Rose." Alice shuddered. "This is why I'm glad we don't live together."

"Whatever." Emmett looked back at the table, admiring the spread of finger foods, desserts, and assorted snacks. "So where are we on that sustenance?"

" _We_ are just about to dig in," Bella said, fluffing out her blanket. "So _you_ need to go."

"But I don't wanna go! I wanna stay in here and... and..." He frowned. "What are you about to do anyway?"

"Christmas Movie Marathon!" they shouted together.

"It's tradition," Bella said. "And the way we've kicked off winter break for the past two years."

"You been holdin' out on me, cuz?" Emmett asked Alice. "How come I didn't know about this?"

"Because you lived in the athlete's dorm last year," Alice said.

"And you were dating that skank Vicki Hunter the year before that," Rosalie added sharply. "Or so I heard."

"Plus it's no boys allowed," Bella said.

"Oh, really?" Emmett looked at her, wiggling his bushy brows. "Does that 'no boys rule' apply to a certain green-eyed junior who lives in Cantor Hall?"

"I, um..." Bella blushed furiously then turned away. "I don't know who you're talking about."

"Leave her alone, Emmett," Alice said. "Her epic crush on Magic Masen is nobody's business."

Bella turned to her on a gasp. "How did you know that?"

"Everybody knows that," Rosalie and Emmett said together.

"In any case..." Alice turned to her cousin. "We're about to get started, you weren't invited, so you need to go."

"Fine." Emmett pouted, swiping a gingerbread cookie with a huff. "But I'm telling my Aunt Carmen you're being selfish."

"Fine. Then I'll send my Uncle Aro a link to the YouTube video explaining what really happened to the hot tub."

Emmett stopped in his tracks and smiled at her. "Love you, Ali."

"Love you too, cousin!"

Rosalie kissed him quickly, and Emmett headed out the door. The girls all grabbed some food before settling on the sectional.

"Does, um..." Bella tucked a hair behind her ear. "Does everyone really know that..."

"... that all you want for Christmas is Magic Masen?" Rosalie patted Bella's hand in sympathy. "Well, everybody who knows you knows that."

Bella's eyes widened. "Does _he_ know?"

Rosalie looked at Alice, and the latter puffed out her cheeks. "Well, who can really say what anyone knows? And furthermore, how can we know what we really know?"

"Oh my god." Bella slid down in her seat, pulling the blanket over her face. "I'm gonna die."

"Well, don't do it now." Alice clicked on the television and turned to the Hallmark channel. "Not when 'Holly's Jolly Christmas' is about to come on."

Bella perked up. "Ooh, this is my favorite one."

"You say that about all of them." Rosalie tucked into her bowl of chili. "But this one is pretty cute."

"Yeah." Alice looked at her friends. "Happy Movie Day, girls!"

They smiled in return. "Happy Movie Day!"

Four hours and two movies later, the door to the Big Lounge opened, and Emmett stomped his way in. "Maaan, it is cold out there!"

"Emmett!" Alice paused the TV and glared at him. "What are you doing here?"

"The Frozen Ultimate Frisbee tournament is over," he said, shrugging out of his coat. "My team won, of course."

Alice rolled her eyes. "And this concerns me why?"

"Because we're hungry, and you have food."

"We?" Bella asked. "Who is we?"

"We are us!" Emmett's best friend Jasper said as he walked in. "Or something like that. Masen's right behind me."

"Masen?" Bella asked with a small squeak.

"That's me," came the reply from a green-eyed god with a crooked smile. "Mind if we crash?"

Rosalie and Alice looked at Bella, her cheeks now six shades of red. "Um, sure... I mean, no... I mean, no, we don't mind if you crash."

Edward smiled at her. "Sweet, thanks."

Jasper took off his coat and tossed it in an empty chair. "What's up, Munchkin?"

"Ogilvie." Alice didn't even turn around. "Still rocking the curls, I see."

"Can you see? I mean, you are pretty low to the ground."

"Better low to the ground than low on the evolutionary scale."

"All right, guys," Emmett said. "You're worse than Martin and Pam."

Jasper shrugged as Alice turned to one side, hiding her smile. She and Jasper may have sparred like Martin and Pam, but their relationship was more like Monica and Chandler's circa _Friends_ season five. No one knew they'd hooked up after the Sigma Psi party three months ago, and they didn't want anyone—read: _Emmett_ —to know. Alice wasn't sure she even wanted to date Jasper yet, but she sure enjoyed doing other things with him. So they bickered and teased in public, and on the rare occasions when roommate Bella wasn't home, they kissed and teased in private.

"Let's see." Emmett stood over the food table, rubbing his hands together. "Chili, pizza bites, mini quiche, jalapeno poppers... looks like all the food groups to me!"

"You are in the right, my good man." Jasper grabbed a plate with a huge grin. "Merry Christmas to all!"

Alice rolled her eyes as Rosalie shook her head. "Tell me again why we let them in," she whispered.

"You know why." Alice snuck a peek at Edward who was at the sink in the corner washing his hands. "We're trying to get Bella used to being around Magic Masen."

Bella frowned into her cocoa. "I wish you would stop calling him that."

"Everybody calls him that," Alice whispered. "And after that video, who could blame them?"

Ah, the infamous video, courtesy of that twit Lauren Mallory. She had been one of hundreds of people present that day when Edward performed a choreographed striptease in the middle of the quad as part of a harmless tradition in which male seniors initiate some of the freshmen. Every year the challenge is different—last year, they wore head-to-toe glitter on the first day of second semester—and invited freshman must decide if they're in or out before knowing what the dare is. Flaking on your commitment is punishable only by school-wide shaming, and it's considered an honor to be selected.

So when Edward took to the quad and performed his routine, he was only one of about 50 other guys. But thanks to Lauren Mallory's prime spot and keen eye, Edward's performance became the stuff of local legend. His video has been viewed almost 300,000 times on YouTube where one creative commenter called him "Magic Masen."

The rest, unfortunately, was history.

Bella hated that nickname and not just because the thought of his half-nude gyrating got her all hot and bothered. She thought it didn't capture who he really was—his kind eyes, easy smile, and perfect ass... um, that is, attitude. His perfect attitude.

(I mean, she has seen the video at least 1,000 times since freshman year, so give her a break.)

"So what are we watching now?" Emmett plopped into the big armchair. "Please tell me there's some explosions or espionage going on."

Bella gaped at his crowded plate. "How in the world are you going to eat all that?"

"By thinking of this plate as an opponent needing to be vanquished." He popped a few mini quiches in his mouth. "It's like a game where I always win."

"Speaking of games..." Alice jumped up and clapped her hands. "I'll be right back!"

She flew out of the room as Edward made his way to the food table. "This looks amazing, guys. Thanks for having us."

"Thanks for coming." Rosalie grabbed a wad of napkins for Emmett. "You know, Bella made the meatballs."

"Really?" He scooped a healthy portion onto his plate. "Family recipe?"

There was a beat of silence before Bella realized he was talking to her. "Oh! Yes. My mother's. But she was lazy, so the meatballs are frozen, and I just had to put them in the crockpot."

He looked at her. "You made the sauce, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, that's the most important part. Because that's where the love is."

Bella tried to reply, but she found herself unable to make sounds.

"Look what I got!" Alice burst into the room, waving a stack of cards. "Movie bingo!"

"Are you serious?" Rosalie rushed over, taking a few cards. "Where did you find these?"

"Etsy. I'd ordered them over the summer and forgot all about it until Emmett mentioned games."

"Oh, it is on!" Jasper took a card with more force than necessary. "I'm gonna kick all your asses."

Bella laughed. "That's not exactly how it works."

"How does it work?" Edward asked, taking the seat on the couch beside Bella. She gasped when he set down his plate, and he looked at her. "Is this okay?"

She nodded, not trusting her voice, then remembered he'd asked her a question before that one. "Right, so everybody takes three cards, and each card has 25 random clichés from Christmas romantic comedies. Like a decorating montage, a kiss under mistletoe, or a magic family recipe."

"So every time you see a trope," Alice continued, passing out red markers. "You cross it off on your card. First one to get Bingo on three different cards wins."

"Wins what?" Jasper and Emmett asked at the same time, and Alice frowned. "I hadn't thought about that," she said. "We'd just play for the fun of it."

"How about the winner gets first choice of the leftovers?" Bella suggested. "Would make clean up easier."

Jasper and Emmett looked at each other. "Works for me!" they cried.

"Except the meatballs," Edward said. "I'm claiming them for myself."

Bella smiled to herself as Jasper and Emmett protested his claim. Meanwhile, Rosalie grabbed the remote, and she and Alice scrolled through the on-demand offerings from Hallmark Channel and Lifetime then had to go to Betflix to find a movie none of them had seen yet.

"Ooh!" Alice pointed at the screen. " 'The Last Little Christmas Shop' is perfect!"

"Then let's get it!" Jasper looked at Alice as Rosalie selected that film. "You're going down."

Alice smirked, holding his gaze. "In your dreams."

"Shhh!" Emmett cried as the movie loaded. "I need to focus."

Edward nudged Bella's knee with his own. "Good luck."

She smiled at him. "You too."

 _The movie opens with an alarm clock blaring "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree" as a hand comes out and slaps it into silence._

"Ha!" Jasper crowed. "That'll be 'Hear a Christmas carol in the first three minutes' for 500, Alex."

"Hang on." Emmett held up his hand, and Rosalie paused the movie. "That is not a Christmas carol."

"Yes, it is!" Jasper said.

"No, it's a Christmas _song_ ," Emmett clarified. "A carol is something classic and deep like 'O Holy Night' or 'The First Noel.' "

"Who are you, Father Christmas?" Jasper cried and looked to the girls. "Help me out here."

"Well..." Bella's brows furrowed in thought. "I think I agree with Emmett. When I think of 'carols,' I think of something slow and somber. And older than my grandmother."

"I don't know," Alice said. "That Brenda Lee cut is the jam. Like, you can't really have Christmas without it."

"Yes, but is it a 'carol'?" Rosalie steepled her fingers together. "That is the question."

"Hang on." Edward pulled out his phone and typed for a moment. He leaned closer to read something then looked at Jasper. "Sorry, dude. Emmett is right on this one."

"What?" Jasper cried as Emmett yelped in triumph. "Says who?"

"Says every internet authority on the subject." He held up his phone. "Even though 'Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree' is about the theme of Christmas, it's not in the form of a carol, which is a style of song in which..."

"Fine." Jasper set down his marker with a huff. "But the rest of you ain't gonna get away with nuthin!"

"Well, now that that's settled." Alice grinned at him. "Shall we move on?"

 _The opening scene continues, and the female character gets dressed and heads off to work, a place called The Last Little Christmas Shop._

"Ha!" Emmett crossed off a square on his board. "Got 'the movie title appears in the film.' "

"So do I!" Jasper looked over at him with a menacing smile. "You won't be getting away from me, bro."

"Are they always like this?" Bella asked Edward.

"Worse," he said. "But this is what they do."

"So where do you fit in?"

He shrugged. "I just wait and see if I need to call an ambulance or Rosalie."

Bella snickered, and Edward smiled, and Alice and Rosalie pretended not to notice.

As the movie progressed, various tropes were mocked and crossed off: quaint small town setting, male lead hates Christmas, female lead has a quirky best friend, beloved town institution needs saving.

And everyone's favorite cliché: the appearance of Tanya Denali.

"Who's Tanya Denali?" Jasper asked as all three girls and Edward marked their cards.

"She is like the queen of Christmas movies," Rosalie said. "She has either starred in or produced at least fifteen of them."

"And the worst part is she's a terrible actress," Alice said. "Like, the absolute worst."

"Which one is she?" Edward asked.

"The city planner's secretary," Bella said. "Who, of course, hates the main character."

"Of course."

"Wait." Emmett asked Rosalie to pause the movie. "If the city planner already convinced the council to tear down the Christmas shop, why is Sydney hosting a fundraiser to save it?"

The girls looked at each other and cried, "Plot hole!" before examining their cards in excitement.

Rosalie cheered. "Got it once!"

"Twice for me!" Bella added.

"Trifecta?" Alice waved her cards in Jasper's face. "You betcha!"

Emmett marked two of his own cards, shaking his head. "This movie makes no sense."

"It's not supposed to make sense," Bella said. "It's supposed to make you feel good."

"Does it?" Edward asked her quietly. "Do movies like this make you feel good?"

Bella's smile came easy. "Everything about Christmas makes me feel good. After all, it's the most wonderful time of the year."

Edward playfully rolled his eyes and checked his card. "Let's see... do I have 'terrible jokes using Christmas songs' anywhere on here?"

Bella bumped him with her shoulder. "You know that was funny."

By the night of the fundraiser for The Last Little Christmas Shop, Alice and Emmett had Bingo on two cards, Rosalie and Jasper on one, and Bella and Edward... well, they were too busy trying to out-pun each other to pay the movie much attention.

"Shhh!" Emmett hissed as Bella laughed too loudly. "I need to find out if Sydney's plan worked!"

"No way Maxwell falls for that," Jasper said. "Not when he's already got the funding and zoning permits to build his high rises."

"Both of you hush," Alice whispered. "I'm three squares away from winning this thing."

 _The fundraiser is going smoothly, donors are coming out of the woodwork, and Sydney finally thinks she has the support she'll need to defeat Maxwell's plans. Until some sort of commotion draws her guests' attention to the street. She fights her way through the crowd, steps outside, and finds Tanya's character standing on a platform with a megaphone in hand._

"Ha!" Rosalie crowed. "I knew that heffa was up to something."

 _Tanya reaches into the pocket of her very fancy winter coat and produces some official document confirming Maxwell's ownership of the very land on which The Last Little Christmas Shop stands, dashing all of Sydney's hopes. Waving the document with a triumphant grin, Tanya invites Sydney to the podium to say a final goodbye to her "precious little store."_

 _With drooping shoulders and a heavy heart, Sydney drags herself to the stage, takes the microphone from Tanya, and..._

"Oh my god!" Emmett gasped. "Is that Maxwell riding in a sleigh?"

"He's just in time to save the day," Bella whispered as Edward snorted beside her.

 _Maxwell rides right up to where Sydney holds the megaphone and asks if he can speak instead. Warily, she yields her place to him and holds her breath. Maxwell reiterates that yes, he now owns the entire block where The Last Little Christmas Shop is located and has huge plans for that space._

 _But Sydney cannot believe her ears when he reveals that not only is he keeping the store open... but he's expanding it into "The Last Little Christmas Village," a place where it will be Christmas all year 'round. He tries to explain the details of his grand plan, but the gleeful cheers from the crowd drown him out, and the only one listening is Sydney, tears pooling in her eyes._

 _Maxwell turns to her, cupping her cheek. "Don't cry, pretty lady."_

 _"But why, Maxwell? Why did you do this?"_

 _"Because..." He looks deeply into her eyes. "I love you."_

 _"Good." She smiles, standing on tiptoe. "Then you won't mind if I do this."_

 _As their lips meet in a passionate but relatively chaste kiss, snow begins to fall. But Sydney and Maxwell are too busy being in love to notice._

"Yessss!" Alice leapt to her feet as the ending credits rolled, wildly waving her cards around. "Sleigh ride, last-minute change of heart, and kiss in the snow. I won!"

"Atta girl!" Rosalie jumped up and gave her a high-five. "That's how you do it!"

"But that ending was terrible!" Jasper cried. "I've watched kindergarten puppet shows with better stories!"

"You're just a sore loser." Alice danced in front of Jasper, rolling her neck and laughing when he glared at her. "I won, I won! Ha-ha, ha-ha!."

"Well, I thought it was just beautiful." Everyone looked over to find Emmett sniffling. "The whole town will be a better place because Maxwell learned to love."

"And that, kids," Edward said seriously. "Is the true meaning of Christmas."

"Ooh, tell me another one, Grandpa!" Bella bounced in her seat with folded hands. "Pleeeease?"

"Whatever." Emmett wiped his damp face dramatically then looked at Edward. "You two deserve each other."

Edward laughed, shaking his head. "Shut up, man."

Bella stopped bouncing, doing her best not to look at either one of them. She couldn't believe Emmett said that, and she _really_ couldn't believe Edward's reaction. He thought the idea of them together was laughable?

Well, Magic Masen could kick rocks!

"I think I'll start cleaning up." Bella stood and grabbed her plate. "We only have the lounge for another half hour."

"Good idea," Jasper said, tearing his Bingo cards in half. "Because this is trash."

Alice watched him and shook her head. "Wow, you really are a terrible loser."

"No, I was the victim of a terrible movie, and I want a refund." He followed her across the room as she started putting the chairs back in place. "No, a rematch!"

"Come on, teddy bear." Rosalie helped Emmett to his feet. "Let's go to my room where you can cry it out."

"I don't..." Hiccup. "Need to..." Huff. "Cry..." Snort. "Anymore..."

"Of course you don't." She kissed his cheek. "So let's go to my room for other reasons."

"Oh!" He perked right up. "Well, when you put it that way..."

"You can help me dig through the Tupperware bin."

"What?" Emmett pouted. "But I thought..."

"You thought wrong." She smiled sweetly. "I need to cover up the food so Alice can collect her prized leftovers."

"Not the meatballs," Edward said as he smiled at Bella. "Mine, remember?"

Bella didn't look at him, turning to Rosalie instead. "Could you bring the good foil? We can just cover these bowls instead of hunting for lids."

"Ten-four, good buddy." Rosalie noted the change in Bella's demeanor, and she mouthed to her friend, "Are you okay?"

Bella nodded, pretending not to see Edward talking to Emmett and laughing... again. She mimed a yawn to pacify Rosalie and watched her drag her boyfriend out the door. Bella went over to the drinks table and started moving things around so she could remove the tablecloth. She'd also need some paper towels and cleaning spray just in case the table was sticky.

"I can help you with that," Edward said, appearing right beside her.

"Thanks." She kept her head down, focusing on moving the sweaty bottles. "But I got it."

"Uh, okay."

He watched her in silence as she worked. It seems clearing the beverages required a lot of focus.

"Do you need something to clean the table?" he asked.

"It's probably fine."

"Right." He palmed the back of his neck and noticed the bin beside the table. "The recycling can is almost full. Where do you dump it?"

"In the closet around the corner."

"Will you walk with me?"

Her head jerked up, and she stared at him. "What?"

He picked up the blue can, angling his head toward the door. "Come take a walk with me."

Bella didn't want to go, didn't want to be alone with this person who apparently thought the idea of them as... whatever Emmett meant by what he said... was hilarious. So she prepared to tell him, "No, thank you."

Instead she found herself setting down the carton of egg nog she was holding, wiping her hands on a napkin. "Fine."

Edward seemed surprised by her tone, but he led the way nonetheless. Once they made it out the door, he turned to her. "Which way?"

"To the right," she said, wondering why she was cooperating. She was supposed to be upset!

Edward proceeded down the hall and stopped in front of the door marked "Dump Room," choosing not to make the obvious joke. He hefted the bin, indicating its weight, and Bella suppressed an eye roll as she opened the door for him.

"Thanks," he said, unsurprised now when she didn't reply.

Bella stood inside the room but near the door while Edward dumped the recycling down the chute. He set the bin down beside him then turned to face her.

"What happened?" he asked.

She kept her focus on her shoes. "What do you mean?"

"With you? With... with us?"

At his use of the word, she snorted.

"See?" He pointed at her. "That right there. Why are you acting like that?"

"Why do you think the idea of us being together is funny?"

"What?" When she repeated herself word for word, he frowned. "I don't know what you're talking about."

It was Bella's turn to frown in annoyance that he was actually making her do this. "Emmett said we deserve each other and..."

Edward was already shaking his head. "He didn't say that."

"Yes, he did. And you thought the idea was hysterical!"

"But Emmett didn't say that we..." Edward's mouth dropped open with a quiet, long "ohhh," and he looked at Bella with a softer expression. "You're upset because I laughed when Emmett said we deserved each other."

She rolled her eyes. "Didn't I just say that?"

"Yeah." He waited a beat. "Why does that upset you?"

"What... what kind of question is that?"

"A simple one, really. Why would it upset you to think that I think the idea of us deserving each other was funny?"

"Because it... well, it seemed like... I thought that you were..." She closed her eyes, furious with herself and him, and changed tactics. "Why don't you tell me why you think the idea is so funny?"

"I don't think it's funny. I think _you're_ funny. And clever and sweet and have the prettiest brown eyes I've ever seen." He stepped toward her. "But I don't think the idea of you and I deserving each other is funny. I actually think the idea could be amazing."

Bella stared at him, her mouth agape and her brain short-circuiting as it processed his words. Edward waited her out, rather enjoying the sight of her lovely blush, and eventually Bella realized she hadn't spoken in far too long. She was far too shocked to respond to his actual confession, but there was the matter of the question he still hadn't answered.

"Why did you laugh?" she asked quietly.

"I was laughing at what Emmett said." He held up a hand when she tried to interject. "But because it's an inside joke between us. You know that show, _Riverdale_?"

"Yes." Bella tilted her head. " _You_ know that show?"

"Yes, but that's the joke. See, last month, we went to see Jasper, and his roommate Peter told Jasper he wasn't home. But we could hear the TV on in Jasper's room, so we decided to sneak up on him.

"But Emmett has the grace of a sasquatch and tripped over the beanbag chair in the front room, knocking over the coffee table. He apologized to Peter and we went down the short hall to Jasper's room. We opened his door and found Jasper curled around a pillow on his bed watching _Riverdale_ like there's gonna be a quiz later. Emmett is like, 'Dude, what?' and making all this noise, but Jasper told him to shut up because he was trying to hear. And when we looked at the screen, some teary-eyed girl said to whoever she was talking to, 'You two deserve each other,' and she stormed out of the room. Jasper looked all shocked by what was happening, and when we saw how serious he was, Emmett and I just lost it, like doubled over laughing. Ever since, it's been this thing we say whenever one of us is being dramatic or whatever.

"I was laughing at Emmett, which is really laughing at Jasper and how stupid we all are. But not you, Bella. I would never laugh at you. Even if you weren't... well, you... you would still be the only person on this campus who doesn't call me by that awful nickname." Edward looked at Bella, his gaze soft and sincere. "And if only for that, I would never do something as cruel as laugh at your expense."

Bella rubbed her arms, looking away as the weight of Edward's words settled in her chest. "I hate that name," she murmured.

"Not more than I do," he said, and they laughed lightly together. "So... do you get it now?"

"Yeah. You all are idiots, but yeah, I get it."

"So we're okay?"

"Yeah. Sorry I got mad."

"Sorry I gave you a reason to get mad." He rocked a little from side to side, suddenly shy. "So, um... does this mean I can take you out sometime?"

"Yeah." Bella bit her bottom lip. "You can definitely do that."

"Sweet! So after Winter Break, I'll set something up."

She returned his smile. "Okay."

"Okay."

They stood there smiling at each other until Bella finally looked away, her heart all flutter. Edward cleared his throat and grabbed the empty recycling bin, and Bella held the door as he passed through. When the door shut behind them, she chuckled to herself.

"On second thought..." she said slowly. "I think I might have to start calling you 'Magic Masen' too."

He blinked. "What? Why?"

"Because you just made me swoon in the Dump Room." She shook her head at the sound of it. "And if that doesn't make you absolutely magical, I don't know what does."

He looked at her, an adorable smirk on his face. "I made you swoon?"

She rolled her eyes. "It was probably the fumes from the trash chute."

Edward laughed and Bella joined in, and for the first time ever, he found he didn't mind being Magic Masen. In fact, it suited him just fine.

* * *

 **It was good to see the whole gang together, yeah? Fun times.**

 **[Okay, writers: I saw this on FB and tried it out, and based on the length of this fic, I have to say it works: When writing, use Comic Sans as your font. I know, I know... Comic Sans is the clown of the class and should never be taken seriously. But for some reason, writing in that font is easier and you'll find your word count much higher than normal. Give it a try and let me know your results!]**

 **See y'all tomorrow! XO**


	6. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER: Madame Meyer owns everything in the Twiverse. I'm just a crazy fic writer who just had to do something for Christmas this year.**

 **Halfway there, kids! My continued thanks for taking this journey with me. Without you, I'd just be talking to myself!**

 **Here's #6!**

* * *

 **PROMPT: Random idea for an AU canon-esque futuretake. Tissue warning might be appropriate.**

 **Word count: 2,329**

"Stop fidgeting." Jacob rested his hand atop hers, bobbing up and down with her nervous knee. "It's going to be fine."

"You don't know that." She nibbled her bottom lip. "They don't like me and never have."

"They don't like me either." He grinned, face aglow like her own personal sun. "But we were both invited, and I'm taking that as a good sign."

She nodded to herself, still not convinced. "Rose said she'll cross the treaty line in a heartbeat if they threaten me."

He suppressed an eye roll, his relationship with the blonde vampire still not exactly copacetic. "It won't come to that."

"But it could, right?"

He didn't answer right away, choosing his words carefully. "In the past, maybe. But things have changed in the past month, and we... we don't have time to pretend otherwise."

"Gosh, I'm sorry, Jay." She placed her hand against his warm cheek, caressing it with her thumb. "Here I am thinking about me when this must be agony for you."

Jacob squared his jaw, keeping his emotions in check. "I made peace with my father's attitude a long time ago. I can only hope he extended this invitation to make his peace with me."

She slid her hand off his cheek and clasped his right hand as he drove the rest of the way in silence. Between the tree cover and the late hour, she couldn't see much, but she knew enough to assume they were being watched.

And she didn't like the feeling.

"We're here," he said, rolling the car to a stop. "Are you ready?"

She put on her bravest smile, the one she reserved only for him. "Ready."

Hand-in-hand they approached the unfamiliar house, walking up the wheelchair ramp. A few strands of colored lights were tossed around a bush, some blinking and some not, but the overall effect was quite nice. And on the front door was a tattered wreath, its green leaves now browned with age.

"My mother made that," Jacob murmured. "I haven't seen it since I was a child."

She squeezed his hand reassuringly. "Maybe that's another good sign."

"Yeah, maybe."

Jacob raised a fist to knock on the door when it swung open to reveal a weathered but familiar face.

"I thought I heard a car out here." Sam looked at Jacob sternly. "Jacob."

"Sam."

The two men stared for a moment before lunging at each other for an aggressive hug. Loud pats on the back punctured the air, and the atmosphere warmed with their greeting.

"It has been far too long, friend," Sam said, welcoming him inside.

"It has. And I wish we were here for better reasons."

Sam's expression sobered. "Yes. But I am glad you're both here." He looked behind Jacob, smiling at his brunette companion as she closed the door behind them. "It is really good to see you..." He chuckled, scratching his head. "I'm sorry. I don't know what to call you."

"You could use my name," she said. "Unless you've forgotten it."

Sam laughed. "As if that could ever happen."

"I go by 'Nez' these days," Renesmee said. "Much easier to spell and explain."

"Nez, then." Sam stepped forward. "May I hug you as well?"

"I would like that very much, Sam," she said, her smile genuine as Sam gave her a brief but sincere hug. In the years since the showdown with the Volturi, the Quileute tribe hadn't exactly reversed their support of the Cullens, but the friendly get-togethers were few and far between. Renesmee was Jacob's mate, so she would always have their protection, but that didn't mean everyone liked it.

And no one was stauncher in his attitude than Jacob's own father.

"How is he?" Jacob asked.

Sam looked toward the back of the modest ranch home with a heavy sigh. "He has his good days and bad days. Sometimes he seems as if he's right here with us. Other times..."

When Sam trailed off, Jacob clapped him on the shoulder. "It's okay. You can tell me."

"I know. It's just that..." Sam glanced at Nez, his brows furrowed. "I take no pleasure in rehashing an already healed past."

"It's okay, Sam," Nez said. "I know Billy hated my father and never trusted my mother. And if he's as bad off as you say..."

"Then it makes sense for him to be ranting about those days again," Jacob said, looking at Sam. "That's what's happening, isn't it?"

"He thinks you're still in high school and that Bella is deep in her relationship with Edward," Sam whispered. "He rails against the Cullens and the evil they're bringing upon our land and..."

"And what?"

Sam held Jacob's gaze. "And he's summoned you here to take your rightful place as Chief and put an end to the Cullens for good."

Nez gasped as Jacob's brown skin paled. "Oh my god."

"We would have told you over the phone," Sam said. "But Emily thought it would be better hearing it in person. That if you were here and felt the energy in the house, it might make more sense."

"Yeah." Jacob closed his eyes, his skin crawling in discomfort. "Even if you hadn't said anything, I would have known something was off."

"So what is he supposed to do?" Nez asked. "I mean, you can't expect him to actually do that, right?"

"We have no expectations of Jacob, Nez, except that he does whatever he feels is right. Though he no longer lives among us, the blood of a chief still runs through his veins." Sam walked over to Jacob, resting a heavy hand on his shoulder. "We trust him."

Jacob covered Sam's hand with his own, and they clasped each other's forearms with the opposite hands. Holding each other's gaze, they began to speak in their original tongue, the words flowing between them soft but strong. Nez closed her eyes, caught in the beautiful solemnity of it all. She knew there was nothing she could really do for her husband, but she would be here nevertheless.

And call Rose for backup if need be.

When the two men opened their eyes, Sam nodded to Jacob. "I'll take you in."

"I'll stay out here," Nez said. "Give you some privacy."

"No," the two men said together, Jacob adding. "Your place is with me, Nez. No matter what."

She gave him a small smile and took his outstretched hand. Sam smiled at them both before leading them to the back of the house.

"Emily and I stay in here," he said as they passed a large bedroom on the right. "He protested when we moved him out of his place, but it was really the only option."

"You did the right thing," Jacob said. "And I am so grateful for what you both have done."

"Consider it nothing. You are our rightful chief, and any power I wield in your stead is done with the utmost respect and deference." Sam came to a stop in front of a door in the back of the house and looked at Jacob. "Take all the time you need."

Sam's soft footsteps echoed down the hall, and Jacob counted them until they were muted by the living room carpet. He looked back at the door, his heart racing, and Nez squeezed his hand.

"This is..." Jacob shook his head, struggling for words. "He didn't even come to our wedding, Ness."

"I know."

"And when I told him we were adopting the twins, he hung up on me."

"I know." She rubbed his arm comfortingly. "And now he's in there, facing the last days of his life, and he wants to see his son." When Jacob looked at her, she nodded once. "So go show him who his son is."

Jacob closed his eyes and took a deep breath, chanting softly to himself. After a moment, he straightened himself and pushed open the door to his father's bedroom. And when he saw his now frail father lying on his back with stark white hair and a vacant expression, Jacob's knees buckled.

It was worse than he'd feared.

"It's okay, Jay," Nez whispered in his ear. "I'm right here."

Jacob nodded without looking at her and stepped toward the bed. The sound of the creaking floorboard cut through the silence, and Billy's eyes opened, staring at the ceiling.

Jacob froze in place, not wanting to startle his father, and before he could decide what to do, Billy turned his way. His milky eyes widened on a ragged inhale, and he clutched his chest with a groan.

"Dad?" Jacob raced toward the bed, gripping his father's free hand. "Dad, are you okay?"

Billy turned toward his son, his eyes aware but uncertain. He raised a shaky hand and pressed his palm against his son's cheek, frowning as he studied him. Jacob's bottom lip quivered, but he held it together, fearing that if he cried, he would never be able to do what was required of him.

"Jacob?" Billy's voice was frail. "Is... is that you?"

"Yes, Dad." Jacob tried to smile. "It's me."

Billy frowned, taking in the look of his son. "It... it doesn't look like you."

"Well, it is me." Jacob leaned back to give Billy a better look. "See?"

"I'm not sure it's..." Billy's gaze trailed over to the door, and he gasped. "What is _she_ doing here?"

Jacob looked at Nez. "Dad, this is..."

"Oh, I know who this is." Billy began shifting in bed, evidently trying to sit up. "This is Charlie's girl, the one who's always in trouble. The one who's nothing but trouble."

"Dad..."

"She's ruining everything!"

"Dad, no. This is..."

"You have no right to be here! Not after the problems you and your so-called boyfriend are about to cause!"

"I am not my mother, Chief Black." Nez walked slowly toward the bed, holding her father-in-law's gaze. "Let me show you exactly who I am."

"What the hell do you think you're... oh!" Billy stilled as Nez laid her hand against his cheek, showing him memories of Jacob and her parents. Beginning with the first time she remembered seeing Jacob and ending with the moment they got the call from Sam, Nez opened her mind and let Billy see it all.

Jacob stood by with his arms tightly folded, wishing there was something he could do. He was the Chief, this was his father, and it should not have been up to Nez to make things better.

At length, Nez dropped her hand from Billy's cheek and rose from the bed, taking a step back out of respect. Billy's eyes stared ahead unseeing, and a trembling hush had fallen over the room. Jacob grasped his wife's hand for dear life, hoping she could feel all the love and admiration he held for her. Whatever happened now, Jacob was grateful that his father knew the truth.

Even if his rational mind wasn't entirely present to grasp it.

"Jacob," Billy said sternly, drawing his son's attention. "Come here."

Jacob glanced at Nez, who offered an encouraging nod, and slowly walked toward his father's bedside. He stopped just at the edge, his eyes downcast.

"Sit," Billy commanded.

Jacob perched carefully on the edge of the bed, conscious of his weight.

"Closer, boy!" Billy shouted. "I want to see you eye-to-eye."

Jacob hesitated before leaning into his father's face, bracing himself.

Billy clapped his hand on the back of Jacob's neck and pulled him in until their foreheads were touching. "My boy..." Billy closed his eyes, tears immediately streaming. "My beautiful boy... I am so sorry..."

"Dad..." Jacob's voice cracked as his father drew him in to lay his head on his chest. Nez clamped her lips shut to keep from interrupting as years of sadness and resentment poured from their eyes.

"I didn't know, son..." Billy cradled his son's head. "I just... I didn't know."

Jacob's reply was lost in the crook of his father's neck, but Nez could only imagine the relief it contained.

"Your family is beautiful." Billy nudged Jacob upright and cupped his cheeks. "And those children... what are their names?"

"William..." Jacob swallowed hard. "William and Sarah."

"You..." Billy closed his eyes. "Even after how I've behaved, you named your son after me?"

"My son could bear no better name than my first chief and father," Jacob said brokenly. "I... I only wish they could meet you."

"Oh, we will meet son," Billy said with certainty. "We will meet in that place where sorrow is unknown, where love is everlasting, and no one is alone."

"Oh, Dad..." Jacob laid his head on his father's chest again. "I wish we had more time."

"Shhh..." Billy rubbed his son's back. "We have now, son. And that's what matters."

Jacob stayed wrapped in his father's arms for the rest of the night. He held his father's hand when the coughing fit started and gave him a sip of warm water to soothe his parched throat. Billy looked over at Nez and mouthed his gratitude, and she held her hand over her heart, nodding her acceptance.

She would think about that moment for the rest of the night and would hold her breath just after dawn on Christmas Day when Billy closed his eyes and breathed his last. She was grateful to have borne witness to the final chapter of such a story, awed by her husband's strength as he kept his voice from quivering.

"Go on, Father," Jacob whispered in his ear, his father's hand clasped tightly in his. "Go to Mother and all the joys that await you."

Billy heard his son's farewell as he slipped away. He opened his eyes and found himself face-to-face with Sarah, her smile as wide as heaven's sky.

"All is well, my love," she said, taking her husband's hand and leading him away. "All is well."

And as Jacob embraced his father's body, he could have sworn he heard his mother's voice.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! Got a full day tomorrow, so the entry might sneak in just before midnight. But hopefully I'll see you then! XO**


	7. Chapter 7

**DISCLAIMER: Madame Meyer owns everything in the Twiverse. I'm just a crazy fic writer who just had to do something for Christmas this year.**

 **Morning! I decided to post #7 before running around today-Happy Friday! :)**

* * *

 **PROMPT: Guy and girl sitting on the front bumper of an classic shiny red truck with a felled Christmas tree and a sled leaning against it (suggested by Amy Gale).**

 **Word Count: 2,514 (AH)**

"You're a life saver!" Bella exclaims as Edward gets out of his car. "You have no idea."

"I have some idea." He chuckles, his green gaze surveying the situation... and coming up blank. "You wanna tell me what happened here?"

Bella blows a hair out of her face, pointing at the chaos on the ground. "This tree is sexist."

"Sexist, huh?" He nods slowly. "I'm going to need more information."

"I was trying to use the sled to drag the tree up into Bessie's bed, and the tree refused to cooperate! No matter what I did, it wouldn't move. It just... laid there, judging me and my last-minute decorating tendencies until it finally just fell down to take a nap and..." Bella looks up to find Edward's lips mashed together. "What?"

"Nothing."

"Are you laughing at me?"

"Definitely not."

She narrows her eyes as another giggle escapes him. "You might want to tell that to your face."

Edward gives full voice to his laughter now, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "I'm sorry. I've just... I've never heard of a sexist tree before."

"Do you think I'm lying?"

"No!" He holds up defensive hands. "I just... well, I think that if sexism has infiltrated the evergreen community, then we need to double, no... triple our efforts to ensure equality, mutuality, and respect between the sexes. Of flora. The flora sexes."

Bella purses her lips. "Are you done?"

"Yes."

"Are you gonna help me get this tree in the truck?"

"Yes."

"Thank you."

Edward retrieves some rope from the trunk of his sedan, and Bella helps him wrap it around the tree, brimming with curiosity.

"You weren't busy, were you?" she asks. "When I called, I mean."

"Not really. Bree's at work, and we, uh... we don't have plans until later."

"Oh." Bella tightens the rope on her side, grateful he cannot see her face. "That's nice."

Edward doesn't reply but steps back from the tree, averting his gaze. "So if we lean the sled against the tailgate, the tree should slide right up."

"Right."

"So I'll pull from the top, and you can guide it from the ground."

"Okay."

Edward climbs into the truck bed, bringing the excess rope with him. Together he and Bella manage to get the tree properly secured, and she extends a hand to help him down. He looks at her curiously, and she cannot help but blush.

"To promote equality between the sexes," she says.

Edward pauses to brace himself for that familiar tingle he only associates with her touch. She had always been "the girl next door," the one he was forced to know because their fathers loved to argue about sports, trade chili recipes, and best each other in Corn Hole. She was a nonfactor, then a nuisance, then tolerable, then a good friend, then his best friend.

Then she turned seventeen and went to visit her mother in Phoenix for the summer.

He remembered that she didn't want to go, how he'd talked her into it and said six weeks wasn't that long. He'd taken her hands the night before she left, looked in her eyes, and said, "Sometimes we have to go away to find what really matters." He'd heard someone say that in one of those sappy movies his mother watched, and it somehow it made sense to him in the moment. He thought he was being supportive, encouraging her to do the hard thing instead of selfishly holding her back. And he remembered being so proud of himself for the decision.

But he also remembered that when she finally came home after those excruciatingly long weeks away, she didn't rush over to see him like normal, barging into his room not caring if he was busy or sleeping or even dressed, to tell him all about the muggy weather, the gossipy neighbors, and the inedible offerings her flighty mother presented each night.

No, this time, Bella didn't come over at all on her first day back. Or her second. Or her third. And the only reason he saw on her on the fourth day was that he barged into _her_ room and plopped himself on her bed, waiting for her to realize she'd been ignoring him.

But when he found the room empty, he went over to the window and found her lying on her stomach in the tiny yard on the side of her house.

The side that wasn't next to his house.

She was on the phone, twirling a hair around her finger as her laughter bubbled up to the window... along with a name he'd never heard before.

Peter.

And Edward didn't know whether to scream or cry.

She wasn't supposed to go away and fall in love. And if she did, the guy wasn't supposed to be someone Charlie actually liked. She wasn't supposed to consider going to school in Arizona just to be near him. Peter wasn't supposed to beat her to it by applying only to Peninsula College in Forks.

And she certainly wasn't supposed to still be with the guy some seven years later.

"Thanks." Edward takes Bella's hand, suppressing a shudder as he jumps down from the truck bed. She releases his hand and tucks a hair behind her ear as they stand in awkward silence.

"So, uh..." Edward clears his throat. "Where's Peter?"

"What?"

"I mean... he never lets you do this alone." He tried to keep the jealousy out of his voice. "Is he out of town or something?"

"Oh. Yes." Bella toes the ground with her boot. "San Francisco."

"Right."

"I think."

He frowns. "You think?"

"Well, I'm not exactly sure."

"Why not?"

"Uh..." She nibbles her bottom lip then sighs. "Peter and I aren't together anymore, so I haven't been..."

"What?" Edward gapes at her. "You and Peter broke up?"

"Yes."

"When?"

Bella frowns. "Um, it was before Halloween but after..."

"Halloween! But that... that's like two months ago. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, I'm sorry if updating you on my love life hasn't been my priority, Edward." She storms around to the driver side of the truck. "But I've been a little busy trying to mend my broken heart and all."

He closes his eyes, cursing under his breath. "Bella, wait."

She flings open her door and climbs into the cab, slamming the door. "Unbelievable."

"Wait!" Edward reaches the door just as she starts up the truck, and he knocks on the window. "Bella, wait! I'm sorry. I just... please don't leave."

She hasn't been this annoyed with Edward since that one summer she went to visit her mother. Bella told Edward how much she didn't want to go, listed every possible objection she could think of to spending so much time away. All he had to do was tell her to stay home, to stay with _him_ and she wouldn't have given Phoenix a second thought.

But no. Edward practically drove her to Phoenix, giving her some spiel about how she needed to go away to find what she needed...

Because (apparently) what she needed was not him...

Because (obviously) he didn't need her.

So she went to Phoenix, fighting tears the whole way, and found Peter: someone who needed her, someone who wanted her to need him.

Until he didn't anymore.

Bella turns off the truck with a muted groan, and Edward takes a few steps back. She opens the door, still not looking at him, and he shoves his hands in his pockets.

"I really am sorry," he says again. "I... I didn't know."

"It's fine."

"No, it's not fine. Because you're not fine."

She rolls her eyes. "I'm a big girl, Edward. I don't need your pity."

"I don't... I'm not..." He sighs, leaning against the truck. "I am so not good at this."

"At getting on my nerves?" She scoffs. "You're as good at that as ever."

He smiles but briefly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

A cool breeze blows between them, and he shivers. "Okay."

"I mean, what is there to say?" She paces in front of him, gesturing with her hands. "We were together, but now we aren't."

"Okay."

"Things were great when they were great, but when they weren't, they weren't."

"Right."

"So when things stopped being great, we stopped being together. End of story."

"Okay."

"And why do you even care?"

He blinks, surprised by the change in tone and topic. "Sorry?"

"I'm asking." No longer pacing, she stares at him. "Why you care all of a sudden? You've never been interested before."

"I've always been interested."

"Since when?"

"Since ever."

She shakes her head. "You never showed the slightest interest before, but now all of a sudden..."

"Stop saying that."

"Saying what?"

"All of a sudden." It is his turn to walk away, a storm brewing in his veins. "It's not all of a sudden, Bella, so don't act like you don't know that."

"What are you talking about?" She follows him around to the front of the truck. "You have never shown the slightest interest before now, so how could I possibly..."

"I have always been interested in you, Bella!" He whirls around to face her, his eyes ablaze. "Well, not always because at first you were just Charlie's annoying daughter who had terrible taste in ice cream and cartoons, but after that, I was deeply, constantly, painfully interested in you. You were the girl of my dreams, the first girl I ever loved and the only girl I ever wanted, and I would have told you that years ago, but you've been with Peter ever since that stupid summer you spent in Phoenix, and I never had the chance. So don't tell me I haven't been interested in you because I've been nothing but interested in nothing but you for so long that I hardly know how to be interested in anything else!"

Bella stares at Edward with wide eyes, the space between them completely silent save his ragged breathing. He had no intention of saying any of that to her today... especially with that tone and volume... but he could not bear to hear her accuse him of not being interested in her before now.

It would be a betrayal of the worst kind.

"Peter."

Edward snaps out of his thoughts and realizes Bella has finally spoken. But he cannot believe what she has chosen to say. "What?"

"I..." She swallows hard. "I was talking about Peter."

"Yes, I know," he grinds out.

"No, I... I was saying that I didn't understand why you were so interested in my relationship with... with Peter all of a sudden. Not... not that I thought that... or that you were..."

Edward's heart sinks, but he merely says, "Oh."

"But you..." She moves as if to step closer then thinks better of it. "You're saying that you... that all this time, you've been... that this isn't..." She frowns in frustration as she looks at him. "Edward."

"Bella."

She shakes her head. "You couldn't mean that. Not... not the way you said it just now."

He chuckles, her incredulity freeing him somehow. "Why not?"

"Because it's been seven years and you lived next door and we saw each other every Thanksgiving and Fourth of July and..."

"... every other Labor Day and two Christmases." He smiles. "I remember."

"And you never said anything."

"Because were always with Peter."

"Right, but you... you were with Charlotte and Rachel and Tanya and Leah and... Sierr... Seneca..."

"Senna," he corrects gently. "All perfectly nice women, but none of them you."

"Oh." She flushes. "I see."

"Do you?"

"No! Because... because even now, you have Bree."

"No. I _had_ Bree."

"What? But you... you said you were going out with her later."

"I said we had plans for later, and we do." He shoves his hands in his pockets. "She is returning the key to my apartment, and I am giving her a box of her stuff." When Bella doesn't respond, he says, "Because we broke up. Two weeks ago."

"Two weeks ago?"

"Yes."

"Right."

Edward watches Bella closely, resisting the urge to explain himself further. For Bella's part, she has no idea what to do, what to think, or how to feel. She stares at Edward then turns away... furrows her brows then nods to herself. Her lips move continually, though without intelligible sound, making her a vision of confusion, shock, and something akin to hope.

And Edward has never seen a more beautiful sight.

"Listen," he says gently, startling her nonetheless. "I know this is a lot to hear. And I'm... I really am sorry about you and Peter, if only because the thought of you hurting is painful to me."

He pauses to let that sink in, and she nods for him to continue.

"But..." And he takes a small step toward her. "I meant every word I said, Bella. I've always been interested in you, and I hope... well, I'd like for you and me to give it a shot. When things are more settled for you, of course," he adds quickly. "And you've had enough time to get over Peter... whose ass I'd be happy to kick if that would speed things along."

She shakes her head with a quiet chuckle. "That won't be necessary."

"Just doing my part for equality between the sexes."

"Of course."

"Edward..." It's as if she's seeing him different, and the vision is making her shy. "Do you... I mean, you would really be willing to wait? Just for the chance to... to..."

"To see what we could be? Bella Swan, I've been waiting seven years for you and will gladly wait another seven if I have to."

"Really?"

"Really." He takes her hand, holding her gaze. "I've gotten too good at wanting you to dare stop now."

"Oh. Wow."

He doesn't respond, feeling he has said all he could possibly say. As if on cue, her phone pings in her pocket, and she checks the notification. "It's Rose, asking about snacks. She and Alice are coming over to help me deck the halls."

"Then you'd better go," he says, still holding her hand.

She purses her lips though her eyes are alight. "Edward?"

"Yes?"

"May I have my hand back, please?"

"Oh, sorry." He pulls away, not sorry at all. "Told you I didn't want to let you go."

She shakes her head as she climbs into her truck, her thoughts a happy, jumbled mess. She starts up the truck then turns to him. "Thank you for... well, thank you for being you."

"Thank you for letting me be me to you," he says sincerely. "And for the possibility of someday being more."

She stares at him, still unsure of how to process his open adoration, and he chuckles. "Or I could just say 'Merry Christmas.' "

"Merry Christmas," she replies. Edward steps back, and she honks twice before pulling off. And as he watches her go, he whistles his way back to the car, thinking, _"Thank God for sexist Christmas trees."_

* * *

 **Sexist Christmas trees. *shakes head* What is this world coming to? ;)**

 **See y'all tomorrow! XO**


	8. Chapter 8

**DISCLAIMER: Madame Meyer owns everything in the Twiverse. I'm just a crazy fic writer who just had to do something for Christmas this year.**

 **So I clearly need to change the title of this collection to "Twelve-Plus Days of One-Shots" because "flash fics" these are not! Having rich stories to tell is certainly a good problem to have, but they're taking much longer to write than anticipated. So thanks for the support and patience.**

 **Here's #8. It's late and I have to go, so I didn't really edit this one. Please pardon all mistakes :)**

* * *

 **PROMPT: I was watching** _ **Top Chef,**_ **and a contestant spoke of a Christmas Eve when all the lights went out and his family had to make the best of a messy situation. That tale very loosely inspired this one. (AH)**

Alice stood in the middle of her small apartment, looking around in horror. Her long-distance boyfriend Jasper would be arriving in town within the hour, and the place was a disaster. Especially the kitchen where her attempt to prepare him some hometown favorites had gone terribly wrong. The Cornish hens were still clucking at her, the biscuits were hard as rocks, and she had (apparently) substituted salt for sugar in her red velvet trifle. To say nothing of the fact that she hadn't showered, the place was a mess, and let's not even get into what was going on with her hair.

Bottom lip trembling, she let out a tiny scream and grabbed her phone, hitting the first ICE entry who thankfully answered on the first ring. "Hello?"

"Bella?"

"Alice?" Bella asked. "What's wrong?"

"I'm... it's..." She clamped her lips shut then broke out in sobs. "Help meeeee!"

"Oh, Alice," Bella said kindly. "It's okay. Just take a minute to..."

"Ha!" came the voice in the background. "Gimme my money!"

"Rose!" Bella hissed in a muffled voice. "Be quiet."

"What is..." Alice's waterworks came to a sniffling halt. "What is she talking about?"

"Just ignore her," Bella said not entirely unamused. "I usually do."

But Alice knew her best friends too well. "What. Is she. Talking About?"

"She, uh..." Bella cleared her throat. "Well, we actually... um, we had a bet about when you'd call us in a panic."

"What?" Alice shrieked.

"Honey, we love you," Bella said. "But we knew you were going to do exactly what we told you not to do."

Alice tucked the phone under her chin and put her hands on her hips. "Which was?"

"We told you not to go overboard," Rose said, the call apparently on speakerphone now. "We told you that after not seeing you in almost nine months, Jasper wouldn't care what you cooked or looked like. He would just wanna close the door, throw you down on that sorry excuse for a sofa, and get all up in that thang thang."

Alice cringed. "You are so crass."

"Fine." Rose paused. "He would wanna ride in your sleigh, stick his partridge in your pear tree, kiss you on your pa-rum-pum-pum-pum..."

"Her point," Bella said, trying not snicker. "Is that we told you to keep it simple—order some takeout, hang a few decorations, and spend the day pampering yourself so you'd be relaxed when Jasper arrived."

"But nooo," Rose said. "You had to try and go full-on Martha Stewart and now you're too annoyed and stressed to enjoy the fact that your boyfriend will soon be there to jingle your bells alllll the way..."

"Okay, fine!" Alice cried. "Yes, I did too much, it all went wrong, and now I'm a mess, my place is a mess, and Jasper will be here in 45 minutes. So what am I going to do?"

"Here's what you're gonna do," Bella said. "You're going to close your eyes, take a deep breath..."

"And come open the door," Rose said. "Because the cavalry has arrived."

Alice frowned in confusion. "What?"

"You heard me," Rose said, and Alice heard three sharp raps on the door. "Open up!"

"What in the..." Alice walked to her front door, threw it open, and was startled to see Bella and Rose standing in her hallway. "How did you get here so fast?"

"We were parked outside," Bella said with a shrug of her shoulders. "We knew you'd need us."

"And thanks for that, by the way." Rose strolled into Alice's apartment pulling a wheeled duffel bag behind her. "You just won me 100 bucks."

"You guys..." Alice covered her mouth with both hands, her eyes watering all over again. "I can't believe you would..."

"No time for pleasantries," Rose said. "We've got a lot to do and very little time."

"Right." Alice went to close the front door, and Bella shook her head. "Hold on. We've brought back up."

Alice looked at her. "Back up?"

"Ho ho ho!" Emmett boomed as he stepped into the room, carrying large takeout bags. "And that was a greeting not an accusation."

Alice grinned widely. "What are you doing here?"

"We came to help," Edward said as he appeared with shopping bags.

"Tell the truth, man." Emmett closed the front door with his foot. "We lost a bet."

Rose looked at them as she unpacked the duffel bag. "I keep telling you boys that you aren't old enough to gamble."

"Besides," Bella said as she took off her coat. "You should never bet against Mrs. Mallory trying to skank it up on Halloween."

"The lunch lady at your school?" Alice looked at Emmett. "What was her costume?"

"A sexy Cookie Monster." Emmett shuddered. "She has completely ruined _Sesame Street_ for me."

"Okay, so..." Rose clapped her hands, drawing everyone's attention. "We've got about 40 minutes to get this done, so go to your stations."

"Stations?" Alice asked as three of her friends scurried around. "Meaning what?"

"Edward and Emmett are on decorating duty." Bella pulled out an apron from her bag. "I'm tidying up the kitchen and putting out the food."

"And I..." Rose picked up a bright pink satchel. "Am here to get you ready to light Jasper's yule log." When Alice pursed her lips, Rose cleared her throat. "Okay, I'll stop."

"Thank you." Alice paused and looked the rest of them. "And really, thank you all. I don't know what I'd be doing right now if you weren't here."

"Probably having a total meltdown," Emmett said. "But hey, it's part of your charm."

"Speak for yourself," Edward mumbled then grinned at Alice. "Love you."

"Okay, come on." Rose steered Alice toward her bedroom. "We've got work to do."

They walked into Alice's bedroom and found similar chaos to that in the front of the house. Clothes were strewn about, the bed was unmade, and it looked like the trash can hadn't been dumped in days.

"Yikes," Rose muttered setting down her bag.

"Don't judge me!" she cried, swatting Rose's arm. "I'm scared."

Rose smoothed back her unkempt hair. "Of what, honey bee?"

"Of... of Jasper not liking me anymore." Alice pulled back to wipe her face. "I'm... I'm afraid he's only coming all this way to be polite or to dump me in person."

"Why would you think that?"

"Because how could he take me seriously?" Alice walked away and flopped on her bed, sending a pile of clothes to the floor. "He met me in New Orleans shaking my maracas for beads and free beer."

"While he was there for a business convention," Rose said. "I remember."

"He was this super serious guy who skipped college to intern for one of the most prestigious ad firms in the country, and I was this flighty, barely graduating college senior whose only goal in life was to get Instagram famous."

"But you did! And your Insta Story about your Spring Break in the Big Easy got you a gig in the social media department at the Forks Forum." Rose sat beside her. "Not too shabby for a flighty senior, huh?"

"Yeah, but..."

"Alice... what is this really about?"

Alice glanced at Rose then looked down. "I saw something on Facebook. Or... well... really, I saw some _one_ on Facebook."

"You saw someon..." Rose raised an eyebrow. "You mean a female someone?"

"A tall, stunning, could-be-Salma Hayek's-twin female someone."

"Doing what exactly?"

"She was posting all these pictures from some party." Alice stood up, pacing. "It must have been her birthday because she was wearing a crown and a sash that read 'Level Up, Bitches!' "

Rose pursed her lips. "Kinda tacky, but go on."

"Well, in one of the pictures, Jasper was there." Alice's nostrils flared as her little hands balled into fists. "And he seemed to be having a damn fine time!"

"Yeah, but pictures don't ever tell the whole story," Rose said. "I'm sure if someone snapped the wrong picture of Emmett at work with all those perky preschool teachers, it might make me wanna punch someone. Doesn't mean something is actually going on."

"Oh, really?" Alice grabbed her phone and pulled up the photo in question. "So this doesn't look like anything is going on?"

Rose took the phone and saw a photo of Jasper with his face buried in Salma's doppelganger's ample cleavage. The girl's smile was a mile wide as she held Jasper's head in place, and Jasper seemed comfortable in his position. Really comfortable.

"Rose?" Alice prompted.

"Give me a minute." Rose zoomed in, squinting at the image. "Just wanted to see if it was photoshopped."

"You think I didn't do that already?" She snorted. "What kind of amateur do you take me for?"

"Okay, so the image is legit." Rose handed back the phone. "But that doesn't mean it's telling the whole story."

"Oh, I'm sure I could guess the whole story. But the thought of it makes me wanna throw up."

"What I'm saying is that if this picture was on Jasper's Facebook page, he couldn't have been trying to hide it."

"That's just it. The picture was on _her_ page. I happened to see it because Jasper was tagged in it. I took a screenshot so I could google her, but there are thousands of Maria Sanchezes in the world." She looked at Rose. "Is that racist?"

Rose thought about it. "Not if it's accurate."

"Oh, it is. Because I counted them!"

"Then what happened?"

"After my failed Google search, I went back to Facebook. But when I checked his page, the photo was gone without a trace. And Maria's settings were set to Private, so I couldn't get anything else on her."

Rose patted her hand. "That doesn't have to mean what you think it means."

"But it could. And you can't tell me differently." Alice sighed. "That's why I've been trying so hard to make everything perfect for this weekend. I just... I want Jasper to see that he doesn't need Maria or anyone else because I'm good enough for him."

"Honey bee..." Rose paused a moment, measuring her words. "You can't make Jasper see that you're good enough for him. That's... that's not the way to a healthy relationship."

"Well, I have to do something, Rose, because he'll be here in..." She looked at the clock on her phone and gasped. "... oh my god, 28 minutes, and I'm... I'm..."

"You're gonna be fine." Rose held her by the shoulders, waiting for her to relax. "I don't think Jasper would fly all the way here from Houston to break up with you. And I don't think he would have been calling and texting and FaceTiming you every few hours for the last nine months if he was gonna come here and break up with you."

"But the..."

"The picture is alarming, yes," Rose said gently. "But I don't think it tells the whole story. And before you convince yourself that the sweet, thoughtful guy who sent you a care package when you had the flu last month, paid a barbershop quartet to serenade you on your birthday, and is flying out here to spend Christmas with you instead of his very tight-knit family in Texas is going to break up with you, maybe you should hear the whole story first."

Alice's shoulders drooped, and she sighed. "You're right."

"Of course I'm right. It's faster just to assume that."

"And so humble," Alice added, looking at her friend. "Thank you."

Rose waved her off. "Now get in the shower while I try to reinstate some order up in here."

"Okay."

Alice hurried into the bathroom while Rose got to work in the bedroom. She started by hanging up the clean clothes and tossing the dirty ones into the hamper.

(And if you tell Alice that Rose used the smell test to know the difference, she'll hunt you down and throat-kick you.)

Then she flipped the mattress, shook out the comforter, and changed the sheets, fluffing the pillows before placing them against the headboard. By the time she finished putting away the jewelry and straightening the perfume bottles on the dresser, Alice emerged from the bathroom, fresh-faced and properly primped.

"Feeling better?" Rose asked.

Alice nodded. "I let myself get all worked up for nothing. Probably because I like him so much."

"And I get that. I mean, I fell so hard for Emmett that I tried to ruin our second date so he wouldn't have a chance to reject me. Thankfully he wasn't afraid of the crazy and stuck it out with me anyway." Rose looked at her. "Do you think Jasper is worth taking that chance?"

"I do."

"Then finish getting ready, so you can greet your man and find out the truth." Rose grabbed the trash bag on her way out of the room. "Because only the truth will set you free."

She shook her head. "You went from dirty Christmas puns to the red words of Jesus?"

Rose shrugged. "It's a gift."

She closed the door behind her, and Alice took a deep breath. She tried to block the whole photo situation out of her mind and managed to get dressed and ready in record time. With a final swipe of lip gloss and a slight smile, Alice went to join her friends in the main living area.

"Okay," she called out. "I'm ready to... oh my god."

For a moment, Alice thought she had somehow stepped into the wrong apartment because everything looked so different.

The kitchen was spotless, all dishes were either put away or in the dishwasher, and on the eat-in counter was a large bowl of seafood pasta complete with antipasto salad and garlic parmesan knots. Two place settings adorned her dinette table with a chilling bottle of red wine in the center.

"And the cannoli's in the fridge," Bella said, mock-glaring at Emmett. "Minus one."

"I had to test it first," Emmett said. "Make sure it wasn't poisoned."

Alice shook her head, still looking around in wonder. Her living area was decked out in classic greenery peppered with shades of cream and gold. From the wreath behind the sectional to the garland across the mantle, Alice didn't know where to look first. But the most shocking item of all was the six-foot artificial pine in the corner, complete with lights, ribbons, and a stunning star on top.

"How did in the world..." Alice gaped at the tree then her friends. "I thought you weren't going to go overboard."

"We told _you_ not to go overboard," Bella said. "We didn't make any promises about ourselves."

"But how did you put up the tree so fast?"

"Call it a bit of Christmas magic," Edward chuckled. "Or the fact that we decorated the tree at home and hid it in the hallway until you went in your bedroom."

"If you hadn't called," Bella added. "We were gonna leave it on your doorstep."

"You guys..." Alice blinked, trying to keep her emotions in check. "You didn't have to do this."

"Sure, we did." Emmett wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Rose made us."

"I regret nothing." Just then, an alarm went off on Rose's phone, and she turned toward the door. "It's time, people!"

"Time for what?" Alice asked.

"Time for us to go so Jasper doesn't catch us here." Edward helped Bella into her coat. "Wouldn't want him to think we were checking him out or anything."

"That's tomorrow's plan." Emmett winked at Alice. "So don't be surprised if we pop up."

"We're doing no such thing," Bella said. "Rose would kill us."

"Y'all are making me out to be some bossy dictator." She looked at them and shrugged. "Not that I mind."

"Have a wonderful time, Al." Bella pulled her into a hug. "Enjoy every moment with your guy."

"And if there's any cannoli left..." Emmett gave her a pointed look. "You know my number."

Edward said his goodbyes and grabbed the empty travel bags on his way out, Bella and Emmett following. Rose hung back until they were out of earshot then turned to Alice.

"Whatever happens," she said, hugging her tightly. "It will be fine."

Alice exhaled slowly and offered a small smile. "Thank you, Rose."

Rose blew her a kiss and walked out of the apartment, and Alice closed the door behind her, giving herself a moment to get her mind right. She'd been looking forward to tonight for months, and there was no need to ruin it with worry. So she distracted herself with domestic details.

She refolded the creamy, cozy throw on the couch and rotated the bowl of ornaments on the coffee table. She trimmed the candles on the mantle and lit them, inhaling their warm but subtle fragrance.

She was setting another bottle of salad dressing on the dinette table when the buzzer sounded at her front door. She jumped with a squeak of surprise and walked over to the wall console, taking a deep breath before pressing the button.

"Hello?"

"Alice?" Jasper's smooth voice came over the speaker, awash in relief. "God, I missed you."

Alice leaned against the wall. "I missed you too."

"Good." He chuckled. "But uh, I'd rather be telling you this in person."

"What?"

"Buzz me up, baby. I really need to kiss you."

Alice mashed the button like her life depended on it, holding it for a good five seconds just to be sure. With the glacial speed of her building's elevator, she knew it would take him at least two minutes to get to her door, which would give her just enough time to calm down. The sound of his voice had soothed most of her anxiety, but the image of that Facebook photo wasn't far from her mind either. And before they got carried away with their reunion, she needed answers.

She only hoped her libido would give her a chance to get them.

Sooner than expected, there was a knock at the door. Alice blinked at the sound, throwing open the door as her heart raced in her chest.

Standing there in all of his sandy-haired, hazel-eyed glory was Jasper, his skin flushed and his breathing ragged. Alice stared at him, and he braced himself against the door jamb, exhaling roughly.

"I took the stairs," he panted, dropping his bags at her door. "God, you're beautiful."

"Jasper..."

She didn't have time to finish her thought before Jasper's lips were on hers, soft and hungry and everything she'd wanted them to be. He wrapped an arm around her waist, turning their bodies to press her against the nearest wall.

"I missed you, Alice..." he murmured into her neck. "So, so much..."

Alice trembled as he sucked at the skin beneath her ear, a liquid shot of desire coursing through her body. She ran her hands through his hair, sighing his name as she held him in place. As he brought his attention back to her mouth, Alice forgot about anything and everything outside of Jasper. He ran his hands up and down her sides, his fingers splayed enough to skim the underside of her breasts.

But the image of him with his face planted in someone else's breasts brought her up short, and she pushed him away. "Jasper, wait."

He pulled back, his lips swollen and puckered. "What's wrong?"

"We... we have to talk." She slid away from him, walking toward the middle of the room. She turned to look at him, but her gaze landed outside the apartment. "You should probably get your bags."

Jasper turned to see where her attention was focused then nodded. "Okay."

While he was gone, Alice turned away, clasping her hands tightly to keep them from shaking. The kiss should have done it, should have erased all her doubts. There was no way he could kiss her like that and hold her like that and... mmmm her like that if he was interested in Maria or anybody else.

But how could he explain that picture in a way that didn't end up crushing her somehow?

"Alice?"

She blinked to find him standing in front of her with a querulous expression. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I was asking if you were okay." He paused, studying her further. "But the look in your eyes has answered my question."

"I'm sorry."

"I don't want you to be sorry," he said gently. "I want you to tell me what's wrong."

"I..." She looked away, rubbing her arms. "I don't know how to ask you something."

"Ali, you know you can ask me anything."

"Right, but... does that mean you'll be honest?" She looked at him. "That you've been honest with me this whole time?"

"Yes. But it sounds like you think otherwise."

She sighed. "I don't want to."

"Then tell me what's wrong so we can figure it out." He stepped closer. "Together."

Alice didn't reply but went over to the end table to retrieve her phone. She pulled up the photo with a heavy heart and looked at Jasper. "I saw this on Facebook last week," she murmured, walking slowly toward him. "And I don't know what it means."

She handed him the phone and waited for his reaction. And she was not disappointed.

Jasper gasped, his eyes going wide. He frowned at the photo, looked up at Alice, then looked at the photo again. "This was on Facebook?"

Alice started, shocked that _that's_ what he wanted to know first. "Yes. But not for long. Someone took it down shortly after I saw it."

He shook his head, frowning at the phone. "I told her not to share this one."

"You told..." Alice closed her eyes, seeing red behind her lids. "You told her not to share _this one_?"

"Yes. I didn't want you to see..." Jasper heard himself, saw Alice's fiery gaze staring back at him, and held up his hands. "No, no! That's not what I..."

"Oh, I think that's exactly what you meant!" She snatched the phone from his hand. "You didn't want me to see this photo... though I suppose there are others with her as well, right?"

"Yes. But not the way you think!" Jasper reached for her hand, grateful when she didn't pull away. "I know this looks bad, awful even. But if you... if you'd let me get my phone, I can explain this picture."

She scoffed. "Really?"

"Yes. I mean, I could explain it to you, and I will. But it would make a lot more sense if you could see what I have on my phone."

Alice looked in his eyes, steeped in indecision. Though her heart was hurting, she wanted to believe she could trust him. And the only way to prove she could was to hear him out and decide.

She went to sit on the couch, folding her hands atop her lap. "Fine."

"Thank you." Jasper went to his messenger bag and took out his phone. He walked over and handed it to her. "Here."

Alice took the phone and saw he had a video cued up.

"Press 'play,' " he whispered.

Raising a brow, Alice sighed and did as he asked.

The video, at first, was of a nondescript office space in which dozens of cubicles were arranged in groups of four. With the exception of plants, colorful chairs, or other personal bric-a-brac, they were all identical.

Then the videographer stopped at this one cubicle, and Alice sat upright. This cubicle had the same dimensions and furniture as the others, but covering the walls from one end to the other were assorted photos.

Photos of Alice.

They were in every shape and size, close-ups and full body shots, and in some cases just her hands or eyes. Alice didn't know what to make of it, so she just stared in stunned silence.

Until the camera zoomed in on one section of the wall in particular. Alice's mouth dropped open when she saw that in all the pictures where Jasper appeared, his head had been replaced with somebody else's.

That's when she turned away from the phone to gape at Jasper. Only to find him smiling.

"What the hell was that?" she asked, thrusting the phone back at him. "And who was the guy who..."

"Who put his head on my body?" Jasper shook his head as he set his phone on the coffee table. "Peter, my best friend."

"Your best friend? Why would he do that?"

"Because he's an idiot. And he likes to prank me."

"I don't understand."

"Peter wasn't in New Orleans," Jasper said, sitting beside her on the couch. "When I met you, I mean. He was supposed to be, but he registered for the wrong convention and ended up in Santa Fe."

"Okay..."

"So when I came back from New Orleans, raving about the beautiful woman I'd met, he started saying that I'd stolen his true love, even though he was already dating somebody else. Peter also loves pranks, which are usually harmless. Gluing all my office supplies to the desk, convincing a new employee that my name is 'Casper,' dumb things like that. And even when he teases me about a woman in my life, which before you, wasn't often," he added quickly. "He would soon move on to something else. So he teased me about you for a few weeks then didn't say any more about it.

"But around Halloween, I started gushing about coming here for Christmas. Peter played it cool, and that should have tipped me off. But I was so damn happy that I was about to see you that I paid him no attention. One day I came to work and the receptionist on our floor said Peter needed to see me right away. That wasn't unusual, but the excited look on her face was strange. I walked down his row, noticing how people were staring at me, and BAM, there you were, in all your gorgeous glory."

Jasper shook his head, the corners of his lips twitching with mirth. "Apparently he'd worked on this prank for two weeks, and everybody helped."

"Oh," was all she could say.

"So the photo you saw," Jasper continued. "Was from Peter and Maria's engagement party three weeks ago. I got his brothers and cousins to keep him away from a secluded part of the ballroom while Maria and I staged that photo, taken by her sister Carmen. We were going to slip that photo... and all the others 'leading to it'... into the batch of original proofs Peter got from the photographer. I asked Maria and her sister to keep the photos off social media, but her sister probably uploaded a bunch at once without thinking, and that one slipped in there." Jasper looked at her. "Maria and I... she is like a sister to me, which sounds weird based on that photo, but she loves Peter and knows I love you. She actually can't wait to meet you."

Alice snorted. "I'll bet she can't."

Jasper looked devastated by her reply. "Alice, you... you don't believe me?"

"Oh, I believe you. But you put your face in that woman's cleavage, Jasper." She grabbed him by the collar, pulling him toward her. "So I'm gonna have to kill her."

Jasper threw his head back and laughed, and Alice chuckled with him, her fears completely allayed.

"Listen, I'm sorry about all of this," he said. "I... it never occurred to us that anyone other than Peter, Maria, Carmen, and me would ever find out about those photos. Had I even thought you might see them..."

"Shhh." Alice released his shirt, smoothing it out with deliberate touch. "It's okay. It was an innocent prank between friends, and I'm not mad."

"You're not?"

"Nope. Cuz I'm gonna have a great time pranking her back."

Jasper's brows shot up. "You're gonna prank Maria?"

"I have to." Alice blinked at him sweetly. "Either that or I kill her."

"Oh, Alice..." He cradled her to him, rocking her in his arms. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too, baby." Alice melted into his embrace, suppressing a grin as her mind whirred with vengeance. _"And I love that you think I'm kidding."_

* * *

 **And to think, I thought this one would be my shortest one yet!**

 **I do have to tell you that tomorrow is gonna be crazy for me, and tomorrow's story isn't finished yet... because "flash fics" these are not, LOL! So if you don't hear from me tomorrow, you'll definitely get the next installment on Monday.**

 **Thanks for reading, and I'll see you soon! XO**


	9. Chapter 9

**DISCLAIMER: Madame Meyer owns everything in the Twiverse. I'm just a crazy fic writer who just had to do something for Christmas this year.**

 **Merry Christmas Eve, y'all! Can't believe Christmas is tomorrow... and we've still got four stories left to go!**

 **So here's #9. Looks like Emmett is doing some last-minute shopping today...**

* * *

 **PROMPT: MisterLibre and I were running errands last week when this idea came to me.**

 **Word count: 1,674 (AH)**

Emmett whistled along with the radio as he guided his truck toward the parking garage. Heading to the mall on Christmas Eve was asking for trouble, but he would anything for his little sister.

Especially when she promised him a Holly Holiday Pie to take home after tonight's soiree.

His list was short but verrry specific, and Bella had practically drawn him a map of the mall to ensure he got the right items from the right places. Most of the stores were on the upper level, so he took the ramp heading in that direction. Saying the mall was crowded was a gross understatement, so Emmett wasn't surprised when he had to make more than one loop around the garage to find a spot.

As he drove around for the third time, a blue minivan drove out of a space just ahead, and he smiled at his luck. He headed for the vacant spot, put on his blinker, and prepared to turn into the spot, still whistling.

But his song was cut short when a black Hummer pulled in front of him and tried to back into the space. "What the..."

"Hey, asshole!" The driver leaned out the window, laying on the horn as the truck came to a stop. "Are you blind or something?"

Emmett rolled down his window, determined to be courteous. "Hey, man. Happy Holidays!"

The driver blinked at him. Or maybe not. It was difficult to see anything through their dark sunglasses. "What?"

"I said 'Happy Holidays!'" Emmett shrugged with a small smile. "'Tis the season, right?"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" The driver honked again. "Get the fuck out of the way so I can park my truck!"

"Whoa, man..." Emmett held up his hands. "What's your problem?"

"My problem..." The angry driver stopped to flip the bird at a sedan that drove around the Hummer in a frustrated huff. "...is that I've got less than an hour to get in and out of this clusterfuck of a mall, change my clothes, and be at my brother's new house for some god-awful Christmas party with a bunch of people I couldn't give a hard shit about, and some holly jolly fuckwit won't let me park. My. Truck!"

Emmett blinked, stunned by both the vitriol and its being directed at him. Last-minute shopping was stressful for everyone, but was this guy seriously this pissed over a parking space?"

"Hey, man..." Emmett began kindly. "There's no need for..."

" _Man_?" the driver echoed hotly.

Emmett frowned. "I'm sorry, buddy, was that not..."

"For fuck's sake!" The driver snatched off his sunglasses to reveal a pair of striking blue-violet eyes. "I'm a woman, you fucktard!"

"Oh!" Emmett took in the tattered baseball cap with no visible hair beneath it and the total lack of makeup and almost said, _"How was I supposed to know that?"_

Instead, he had the good sense to nod apologetically. "My apologies, ma'am."

"Ma'am?" The driver snorted. "What am I, 83?"

Emmett scratched the back of his head. "Um, I'm sorry, Miss?"

"Forget the endearments, jackass." She waved at the empty space between them. "Are you gonna move out of my way or what?"

With the way this woman had berated and antagonized him from the moment she pulled into _his_ space, Emmett had every right to stay where he was and insist that she and her foul mouth find another place to park.

But maybe it was his upbringing insisting he be a gentleman or the lure of her unusual eyes asking him to be gracious, but Emmett couldn't bring himself to disappoint this woman. So he put his truck in reverse and backed out, noting how she blinked in surprise.

"There you go," he said, smiling at her.

She simply stared at him for a moment, seemingly in a daze, then she shoved her sunglasses back on her face with a huff. "About fucking time."

Emmett watched her pull into the space in one smooth move, cutting the engine and jumping out within seconds. He could have pulled off, but he waited where he was, hoping that yielding the parking space might curry some favor with the violet-eyed vixen, and that maybe she might consent to going for a drink or something sometime. She certainly didn't have to, but he was so hoping she would.

Or at least tell him her name.

But the woman slammed her door and stormed toward the garage elevators without even a wave in his direction. It was like their conversation had never happened, and now that she had her parking space, he didn't exist anymore.

And if he didn't exist, then there was no need for him to keep sitting there.

Chuckling at his own foolishness, Emmett drove up to the next level and found a parking space almost immediately. He'd hoped that he'd somehow run into the woman while in the mall, but no such luck. And with no time to spare on his errand, he couldn't very well wander the mall looking for her. So he found everything on Bella's list and headed to her house, unable to get those amazing eyes out of his mind.

"It's about time!" Bella cried from the doorway as Emmett pulled in. "You're three minutes late!"

"Oh, you're welcome, Bella!" He hefted the bags from the car with a weary smile. "It was my pleasure, truly! The mall was practically empty, and the few people there were so patient and nice. It was like a magical trip to Santa's Workshop!"

Bella pursed her lips as he walked up her steps. "Thank you, Emmie."

"You're welcome." He kissed her cheek. "But never again."

Emmett traded greetings with Bella's in-laws as he passed the living room and nodded at his favorite cousin Irina who was putting finishing touches on the dining room table. He didn't see Irina's sisters, but if he knew Tanya and Kate, they were down in the wine cellar, plotting which bottles to steal. Bella's college roommate Angela and her husband Ben chatted by the Christmas tree in the den while their children, Mike, Jessica, and Lauren, argued over who was the best reindeer. And Bella and Emmett's parents, Charlie and Renee, would probably arrive in an hour, blaming traffic for their habitual lateness. It was the first Christmas party at Bella and Edward's new place but had all the makings of a new holiday tradition.

Emmett only hoped he wouldn't be roped into mall duty next year.

He brought the bags into the kitchen where Edward was basting the bird. "You survived?"

"Barely." Emmett shook his head. "It was brutal out there."

Bella pulled out the box of shimmering Christmas tree place card holders with a happy squeak. "But it was worth it, right?"

Emmett thought back to his encounter in the parking garage. "Totally."

"Good. Now, scoot!" Bella shoved him toward the den. "I've got a few more things to do in here, and you'll just be in the way."

"See how she is, Edward?" Emmett said. "As soon as she gets what she wants from you, she kicks you to the curb. I hope you know what you're getting yourself into."

Edward looked over at Bella and winked. "I think I can handle it."

"You two are adorable," Emmett said, a hint of jealousy pinging his heart. "Slightly nauseating but mostly adorable."

"Who are you calling nause..." Bella grabbed a potholder to throw at her brother but paused when the doorbell rang. "That's probably Mrs. Cope with her drunken pears." She motioned for Emmett to follow her. "She made two dozen, so I'm gonna need help."

Edward chuckled as Emmett threw up his hands. "Unbelievable!"

"She made so many because you'll eat ten all by yourself, Emmett," Bella said. "The least you can do it help me carry them."

As Bella approached the door, the bell rang again, causing Bella to frown. "She must be in a hurry to get home."

Emmett rubbed his eager hands together. "Or to give all that yummy goodness to me."

Bella rolled her eyes at him and opened the door. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Mrs... Oh! Hi! I thought you were someone else."

"That's okay," came the reply. "I was worried I had the wrong house."

Bella laughed. "Yeah, our address sign is really small. I'm trying to convince your brother to get a bigger one."

The visitor chuckled. "Good luck with that. He's as stubborn as they come."

"Don't I know it?" Bella stepped back and opened the door wider. "Well, come on in!"

"Thanks."

Bella stepped back and admitted into the foyer a woman who was much younger... and much hotter... than Mrs. Cope. And although Emmett didn't recognize the luscious blonde waves or the curves beneath that thick coat, he would know those eyes anywhere.

Those beautiful violet eyes.

The woman paused as she laid eyes on Emmett, surprise etched on her face. But from the way her eyes soon softened, it seemed as if the surprise weren't entirely unwelcome.

And the sight of that made Emmett grin.

"I know work keeps you super busy," Bella said. "So I'm really glad you could make it.

The woman removed her coat, her flirty gaze fixed on Emmett. "So am I."

"Good!" Bella closed the door and turned to the woman. "Edward will be so happy to see you."

Emmett cleared his throat and stepped forward. "Hi."

"Hi," the woman said warmly.

"Oh, where are my manners?" Bella shook her head. "Rosalie, this is Emmett, my brother. Emmett, this is Edward's sister, Rosalie."

Emmett and Rosalie stared at each other as if Bella wasn't even there and said, "We've met."

Bella started, looking between them. "You have?"

"Yeah." Emmett grinned, his smile slow and smitten. "And it was fucking amazing."

"Hey." Rosalie's eyes sparkled with delight. "That's no way to speak to a woman."

Emmett didn't even look sorry. "My fault, man."

* * *

 **And that's #9, folks!**

 **Enjoy the rest of your Christmas Eve, and I'll (hopefully) see you sometime tomorrow! XO**


	10. Chapter 10

**DISCLAIMER: Madame Meyer owns everything in the Twiverse. I'm just a crazy fic writer who just had to do something for Christmas this year.**

 **Remember me? *smiles***

 **Merry Christmas and Happy Kwanzaa to all! This week has been both wonderful and exhausting, and I'm just getting back to feeling like me again. I'm clearly past the Christmas deadline, but all these stories will be completed by New Year's Eve—that I can promise.**

 **Okedoke, here's #10!**

* * *

 **PROMPT: Girl shouting "One hour 'til Secret Santa!"**

 **Word count: 4,528 (AH)**

"One hour 'til Secret Santa!" Alice shouts, standing on a chair in the middle of the room. "Wooooooo!"

All the patrons in Brandon's Bar and Grill raise their bottles and glasses in enthusiastic reply.

All except one, that is.

"Shit," Emmett mutters instead.

"Dude." Demetri nudges him. "Either take the shot or forfeit."

Emmett rolls his eyes at Demetri and tries to focus, remembering the two hundred bucks riding on this game. But a burst of laughter on the other side of the room distracts him, and Emmett misses the cue ball entirely.

"Yes!" Demetri cries out in triumph, holding out his hand. "And that's why boys shouldn't play a man's game."

Emmett grumbles under his breath, cramming the wad of bills into Demetri's palm. Demetri takes his time counting the money, folding them neatly before sticking them in his billfold. "Pleasure doing business with you."

Emmett slaps Demetri on the back with more force than necessary, but the latter laughs it off, used to his friend's attitude by now. "Who's next?" Demetri asks the waiting crowd.

As Demetri greets his next opponent, Emmett winds his way through the rear lounge of Brandon's where the annual by-invitation-only Secret Santa-Stravaganza is being held. This is Alice's favorite event, and she's gone all out to make it extra special this year. There is a Christmas tree in every corner of the room, a photo booth complete with yuletide accessories, and carol-themed drinks of every strength and color.

So far, three guests have been felled by whatever's in "Gin-gle Bells."

The guest list has also been trimmed after that messy situation with Victoria, Laurent, and James last year, so no acquaintances or friends-of-friends have made the cut. Everyone knows everyone else, so despite the $20 limit, excitement and expectations are high.

And none more so than for Emmett McCarty.

He makes his way to the bar and inquires after Alice.

"Back office," Tyler Crowley yells above the noise. "If not, try the basement."

Emmett nods and tries her office first, finding the door locked. Making a right down the narrow hall, he takes the stairs to the basement and finds Alice staring at a large dry erase board with a red marker and eraser in hand.

"What are you doing?" he asks.

"Planning for New Year's." She taps the marker against her chin. "I want to add a vegan item to the brunch menu."

Emmett groans. "Why?"

"Because we can't just eat cheese fries and wing dings every night." She writes something on the board. "What are you doing down here?"

"Do you have a Lost and Found?"

"Yeah. What'd you lose?"

He palms the back of his neck. "Nothing. I was just, uh... wondering if I could look through it."

"Why would you need to..." She turns to him, noting how he avoids her gaze. "Emmett..."

He looks at her sheepishly. "There might be some nice stuff in there."

"Emmett!" She throws the eraser at him. "How could you?"

"I'm sorry! I had so many ideas and couldn't narrow them down, and before I knew it, it was..."

"See? This is why I don't get involved!" She paces in front of him, resembling an adorable, pissed off lion. "This is why I have the rule."

"I know."

"Two years ago, when Angela begged for Ben so she could tell him she's pregnant, I said 'no' because the rule is 'You get who you pick.' I did tell the bartenders to keep her 'Silver Bells' cocktail tequila-free, but that was all I could do."

"I know."

"Last year, when Jake asked for anyone but Leah because they had just broken up, I said 'no' because the rule is..."

" 'You get who you pick.' "

"So this year." She glares at Emmett. "When you asked if you could get Rosalie, I started to say 'no' because of the rule. But you gave me those puppy dog eyes and talked about how you've loved her for the last three years, but she was always with Royce or Garrett or Benjamin or whoever else, and this is the first Christmas when you've both been single, and you've waited long enough. You looked me in the eyes and told me that this year, you were gonna make your move."

"I know."

"So against all my better judgment, I gave you Rosalie—even though I had the perfect gift in mind for her—and I took Mike." She shudders a bit. "Mike Newton, Emmett!"

"I know, Alice, all right!" Emmett runs a hand down his face. "I know I screwed up."

"And you were going to just grab her something out of the Lost and Found?" Alice gapes at him. "Do you know anything at all about women?"

Emmett looks ashamed. "I wasn't really going to do that."

"So what are you going to do?"

"I've still got..." He checks his watch. "... a whole 53 minutes before the exchange starts. I'll just run out and get her something."

"From where?"

"I don't know! But there's gotta be something open."

"Emmett, I swear to God..."

"Just cover for me, Alice." He stands in front of her, pleading with his baby blues. "Please."

Alice folds her arms, rolling her eyes at the gentle giant. "You betta not mess this up."

"Yes!" He sweeps her into a hug, lifting her clean off the ground before plopping a kiss on the top of her head. "I owe you one!"

"You owe me two," she says with a shake of her head. Emmett runs out of the room as Alice snaps her fingers and calls out, "Use the back door!"

"Got it!"

Emmett reaches the main level, and after a few turns, he emerges into the alley behind the restaurant, shivering against the cold.

"Why didn't I grab my coat first?" he mutters as he makes his way to the main street. Fueled by infatuation and the unforgiving breeze at his back, Emmett rushes down the block, looking for anything that might be open. But so far, every store is closed.

"Dammit," he mutters when he reaches the first corner. Outside of Brandon's, he never spends any time in this part of town, so he has no clue where anything is.

"Can't go wrong if I'm going right," he says, heading in that direction.

One block turns to three, and Emmett can barely feel his feet. The temperature seems to have dropped a few degrees in the past few minutes, and he's almost at the point where he has no choice but to flee the country. Better than that face Alice's wrath.

Or Rosalie's disappointment.

He rounds one more corner, and at the opposite end of the street, like a hot toddy on a cold night stands a Target store, its red lights bright and beckoning.

"Hallelujah!" Emmett cries, practically running toward its entrance.

He gets inside and blinks against the lights, his limbs almost aching with the outdoor chill. The lines are long and winding, so he has no time to waste. Literally, because he only has 39 minutes to find a gift, buy the gift, and get back to Brandon's.

"So let's do this," he says to himself, looking at the sections directly ahead. There's women's apparel on the left and accessories on the right. The apparel section is a bit crowded, so he goes right, starting with the handbags. There are so many different sizes and colors he is clueless of where to start. He picks up a black one with a lot of zippers but gets annoyed that it doesn't seem to have a handle. There's a purple backpack with two thick straps on it, but it reminds him of this annoying girl from his fourth grade class, so he sets it down again.

And as he surveys the options, Emmett cannot remember ever seeing Rosalie with a purse of any kind. At Brandon's, the only place he ever sees her, she tends to just pull out a credit card from the back pocket of those jeans she wears that cling to her beautiful ass in just the right...

He shakes his head to clear the thought, needing to stay on task. Handbags are clearly a no-go, and he feels like an umbrella is too practical to be special. But the winter accessories could be both pretty and practical, and he sees a few pieces that might work.

"I do like this one." He holds up a cozy red scarf with yellow and white swirls running through it. But as he thinks about it, he realizes he's never seen Rosalie in anything that bright. She tends to wear quieter shades like lavender, powder blue, and cream, soft colors that could easily be overlooked.

Colors that, on Rosalie, are nothing less than breathtaking.

Emmett remembers the first time he saw her at Brandon's, the way she walked up to the crowded bar, unassuming yet totally captivating. She had him at blonde hair, and her bold curves were almost unfair. He fully expected to see her in head-to-toe black leather, like something out of his teenage boy fantasies. But when he finally tore his attention from her beautiful face, he was surprised to see her in a pearl gray jacket, faded blue jeans, and flat gray boots. Her hat and gloves were soft and creamy, and her lips were a just a shade pinker than her kissable cheeks. She looked like a snow bunny fresh off the slopes, and it took all of Emmett's strength not to slide off the stool to worship at her feet.

She ordered a whiskey neat, stunning him further, and he must have stared at her from the time she ordered it until the tumbler in her hand was half empty. When he finally realized he was still watching her, he also realized she'd caught him. Her blue-violet gaze pinned him in place, and he thought he might pass out from the focus in her stare. But just when he thought she was going to speak, someone called out, "Rosalie!" and stole her attention from him. She looked toward the voice, as did Emmett, and someone was waving at her from the back of the room.

Rosalie waved back and hopped off the stool, but not before finishing her drink in one elegant gulp. She left a tip atop her empty cup and crossed the room to a table in the rear corner where some lucky bastard took her hands and kissed her on the cheek.

That bastard was Royce. He was then followed by bastards named Benjamin, Stefan, Embry, and most recently, Garrett. He was the one who made Emmett nervous because everyone liked him. He was polite, funny, and easy to be around. Emmett himself had almost high-fived the guy for being the only person in a year to beat Demetri at pool. Emmett had never seen Rosalie smile at anyone like that... least of all him... and after Garrett and Rosalie hit the six-month mark, Emmett had decided to tuck away his feelings and pretend they never existed.

But when Alice called everyone to the bar on Black Friday to pick names for her Secret Santa-Stravaganza, Rosalie was a little late... and super pissed off. It took a little creative questioning, but Emmett finally learned from Bella that Rosalie and Garrett were through. Apparently he told her things were getting more serious than he wanted at the moment, so he thought they should see other people. Had the nerve to add that if they were both still single in seven years, maybe they could pick back up where they left off.

Upon hearing the news, Emmett was torn between wanting to kick Garrett's ass for hurting Rosalie and shaking his hand for setting her free. Instead he chose door number three and asked Alice to make sure he got to be Rosalie's Secret Santa. When Alice finally agreed, Emmett knew this was his big chance and he was going to do it right.

And a red scarf that any bozo could give her is not the way to go.

Adjacent to the accessories section is jewelry, and Emmett pauses there a minute. Jewelry is a surefire way to share your feelings with someone, but what's the right way to say what he feels? He and Rosalie have scarcely exchanged more than a few pleasantries over the last three years, and he can hardly jump from that to "I adore you" in a platinum setting. So rings and necklaces are absolutely out of the question.

Bracelets are nice, but there are too many options, and he has no way to narrow them down. He spies some sparkly gold hoops with a silver detail and thinks they would be beautiful against her skin. A price check reveals they are under his limit, and he heads toward the checkout line, satisfied with his choice.

But as he approaches the back of the line, he remembers a conversation he overheard three months ago.

 _"What do you mean?" Alice had cried._

 _Rosalie shrugged. "I don't see the big deal."_

 _"The big deal is you're 24 years old and don't have your ears pierced."_

 _"My right nipple is pierced." She sipped her drink. "Isn't that enough?"_

Emmett had tuned out then, the thought of Rosalie's nipple turning his insides upside down. He wondered why she'd gotten it done and why God had allowed him to hear such information if he would never get to see the delectable evidence for himself.

(God hadn't answered him, of course, being too busy holding up the heavens to entertain Emmett's reflections on Rosalie's breasts. Well, the right one specifically, and the left one more generally, as ignoring it would be rude.)

"Focus, man," Emmett says to himself. "Jewelry is out."

He puts the earrings back on their hook and checks his surroundings again. Across the aisle, Emmett sees some lingerie, and he immediately about-faces.

"Not unless I want a junk-punch for Christmas," he mutters.

Looking for safer ground, Emmett heads to the apparel section he skipped earlier and finds a rack of buttoned sweaters. The garish patterns and colors almost give him a headache until he realizes that's the idea.

"No way." He shakes his head. "Rosalie wouldn't be caught dead in one of those."

All the Christmas-themed items seem too kitschy for Rosalie, so he breezes past the rest of that section. He also skips the dresses and skirts, frowning at the strange audacity of modern women's fashion. Most of the clothes he can't even identify, and none of them look like Rosalie's style.

Toward the back of the women's section, he finds a rack against the wall carrying another group of sweaters, these simpler yet nicer than the first group. He holds one up, liking its soft gray color and shoulder-bearing design but pauses when he checks the tag.

"How am I supposed to know what size she wears?" he asks aloud, startling an old woman beside him. He half-smiles at her, still frowning at the tag. For as much time as he has spent looking at Rosalie... studying, memorizing, adoring Rosalie... he has absolutely zero idea what size she wears. And despite his paltry experience with the fairer sex, he knows enough to recognize the potential landmine in buying a woman something that's too large.

"Dammit." He tosses the sweater on top of the rack, too irritated to bother hanging it up. Emmett knows time is running out, and although he knows he cannot go back to the bar empty-handed, he also knows the wrong gift would be worse than no gift at all.

"No, I didn't bring the list," a man grouses into his phone as he walks by. Emmett sees a mirror of his own frustration in the stranger's knit brows. "Hey, this is your sister, Tanya. I shouldn't even be doing this."

The man pauses to rub his forehead, looking around helplessly. "I don't know. I mean... um... well, doesn't everybody like candles?"

"Candles!" Emmett cries with a snap of his fingers. The man looks up at him, and Emmett winces. "Sorry, man. But you just saved my night!"

With a hearty wave, Emmett makes a joyful beeline for the Housewares section, grinning at his luck. If that man hadn't been out shopping for Tanya's sister, Emmett would never have remembered the second thing he learned about Rosalie, the thing between the whiskey and the nipple piercing.

 _"Ugh!" Rosalie jerked back as she walked into Alice's back office. Emmett was under the desk, fixing a faulty outlet, and nearly electrocuted himself when he heard the familiar voice of that whiskey-drinking blonde from a few weeks ago._

 _"What is that smell?" Rosalie continued._

 _Alice was rummaging through a file cabinet, looking for an old invoice. "What smell?"_

 _"It smells like..." Rosalie took another whiff and groaned. "Like Bath & Body Works threw up in here."_

 _"What?" Alice closed the drawer and carefully grabbed a candle off her desk. "You don't like this?"_

 _"Oh, God, don't bring it closer!" Rosalie backed away, shaking her head. "What is that?"_

 _"Summer Fields." Alice read the label. "It's my favorite scent. Jasper bought me a case since I'm in here so much."_

 _"And that was really thoughtful of him," Rosalie said, noting the hurt in Alice's voice. "And I'm sorry I reacted like that. I just... I hate those scents."_

 _"So you don't like candles?"_

 _"Oh, I love candles," she said. "But I prefer deeper, more 'masculine' scents, I guess. No 'honeysuckle rose' or 'creamy peach' or anything like that. Give me some smoke and sandalwood any day."_

"I don't see smoke and sandalwood," Emmett murmurs as he scans the shelves. "But we do have bourbon and cedar." He takes a whiff, and Rosalie's smile rises in his mind. "Perfect."

He picks the largest candle he sees and runs to the gift wrap aisle, grabbing a bag and tissue paper that he can assemble once he's back at the bar.

"Now to get out of here..." He walks toward the checkout lines, looking for something with fewer than eight people waiting.

But it's Christmas Eve, and this isn't a fairy tale.

He drops behind a woman with only a few items in her cart, hoping this will get him out of here faster. A time check reveals the Secret Santa-Stravaganza will start in nine minutes, and Emmett starts to sweat. He knows Alice has no control over who goes when, but the thought of making Rosalie wait makes him extremely uncomfortable.

But when an argument breaks out in the lane next to him—"who bumped whom" being the core of the issue—Emmett takes a deep breath and calms down. Everyone here wants to get out of here, and getting anxious isn't going to make the line move faster.

His phone buzzes in his pocket a few moments later, and he checks the message, already knowing who it is and what it says.

 _Alice: WHERE ARE YOU?! I have to start in one minute!_

 _Emmett: In the checkout line now._

 _Alice: Thank God! I didn't want to have to kick your ass on Christmas Eve ;-)_

 _Emmett: Love you too, Al. Be there soon._

Emmett puts his phone back in his pocket, and before he knows it, he's through the line and on his way out the door, whistling as he heads toward Brandon's. He feels good about his gift, knows Rosalie will appreciate it, and hopes beyond hope that tonight will be the start of something between them. Even if it's friendship—though he wants so much more—he will take anything if it means he finally gets to wrap flesh around his fantasies of Rosalie.

It's a lot to put on a candle, but what is Christmas without audacious hope?

Emmett is so busy thinking about Rosalie and the possibilities for their future that he doesn't see the man barreling toward him on the street.

"Hey!" the man yells, appearing to be chasing a heavy public bus. "My bags! I left my bags!"

Emmett turns at the last moment, and the man crashes into him, sending Emmett and his bag flying.

"Sorry, man!" The man stumbles but continues around Emmett. "But my wife's biggest present is on that bus!"

"It's all good!" Emmett calls out as he scrambles to his feet. "I hope you catch it!"

"Thanks!"

Luckily, the traffic light at the corner turns red, and the bus comes to a stop. Emmett smiles as the man reaches the bus, stepping on and off within moments with an arm full of bags. He raises the bags in triumph, and Emmett cheers as the man disappears around the corner.

"Well, that was unexpected," Emmett says then looks around for his own bag. "Now where did it... oh, no..."

Emmett spies the bag on the sidewalk a few feet away, crumpled and dirty. When he picks up the bag, he finds the gift bag intact, but the gift itself is a shattered mess.

"Dammit!" he cries, crushing the bag in his hands. Thankfully he doesn't cut himself on the broken glass, but he's so dejected by this point that it wouldn't even matter. He knows there's no time for him to get a replacement, so he slams the bag into the nearest can and hurries back to Brandon's, having no idea what he's going to tell Rosalie.

Emmett uses the back entrance again, light chatter greeting his ears from inside the bar. When he walks into the lounge, he's just in time to watch Bella open her gift from Mike Newton. Bella pulls the item out of the bag, turns it this way and that, and looks at Mike. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

Mike holds up defensive hands. "That's for you to know and..."

"Michael James Newton!" Alice shrieks. "Did you buy Bella a sex toy?"

"What?" Mike cries. "No!"

Bella holds out the gift. "Then what is this?"

"It's a citrus reamer!" Mike says.

"A what?" Bella asks.

"A citrus reamer, for juicing lemons and stuff." Mike takes the item and mimics twisting it into his cupped palm. "See?"

"Oh." Bella nods and frowns. "Why?"

"I heard you say that you love lemon water in the morning, so I thought this would make juicing your lemons easie..." Mike trails off as Bella and Alice blink at him. "No good?"

"It's fine," Bella says.

"No!" Alice cries at the same time, adding, "Mike, I swear to Oprah that you are one more bad gift from being banned."

"Why?" he asks. "What was wrong with last year's gift?"

"A nose-hair trimmer?" Rosalie shakes her head. "I should have shoved it up your nose."

"You said you like to be pampered!"

Rosalie rolls her eyes, and Emmett sighs as Mike defends himself. Thanks to Emmett, this will be two years in a row that Rosalie will be disappointed. At least Mike actually got her something.

(But a nose-hair trimmer? Emmett should punch him in the nose for insulting her.)

Bella gives Jessica an eyeshadow palette that makes Jessica squeal like a seal... before she explains the unique beauty of the ten nearly identical shades. Jessica gives Edward a Darth Vader t-shirt for his growing collection, and Edward gives Tyler a My Little Pony shot glass for his.

"Thanks, man!" Tyler offers a hearty high-five. "I've been looking for this one."

Tyler pulls out a gift bag and passes it to Emmett who has been lingering on the edge of the group. "Merry Christmas, man. And, uh, don't blame me."

"What?" Emmett asks until he takes the gift out of the bag. "Really, man?"

The group erupts in laughter as Emmett produces a _Billiards for Dummies_ book. Emmett shakes his head, joining in on the fun. "Ha ha."

"Your real gift is tucked in the book," Tyler says. "But when Demetri gave me this idea, I couldn't pass it up."

"Study hard, bro!" Demetri calls out. "You could use the help!

"Don't say nuthin when I kick your ass come January!" Emmett says with a laugh. He flips through the book and finds a gift card to the PlayStation store. "Thanks, Ty."

Tyler tips an imaginary hat to Emmett, and Alice looks at him curiously. "Okay, Em. You're up."

"Okay." Emmett steadies himself and turns to face Rosalie, trying not to faint from both the exhilaration of looking at her and the knowledge that he has let her down.

"I, uh..." He clears his throat. "I have a gift for you. Well... I did. And it was a good one, too! But this guy on the street knocked me over..." He looks at her, noting the querulous quirk of her brow. "I know it sounds crazy that someone could just knock me over, but he did! And when he did, your gift went flying out of my hand and got smashed to pieces when it..."

"Your gift got run over by a reindeer?" Mike chortles. "That's hilarious!"

Jessica rolls her eyes. "Shut up, Mike."

"That's it," Alice hisses. "You're banned."

The interruption keeps the attention off Emmett but only for a moment. Rosalie is still watching him, and he still doesn't know how to really tell her what he needs to say.

"Um, no reindeer, heh." He scratches his head. "But anyway... like I was saying, I, um... I had a..."

"You had a gift for me," Rosalie says, coming to her feet.

Emmett is so stunned by the interruption that it takes a moment for him to reply. "Yeah. Yeah, I did."

"Okay." She nods. "I'm sure it was fine. But I think you intended to give me something else."

He jerks in surprise. "I did?"

"Mm-hmm." She steps toward him, her gaze fixed on his face. "And if you don't mind, I... well, I think I'd rather have that one."

"Okay." Emmett frowns. "But I don't know what you're talkin..."

"I'll show you."

Rosalie grabs Emmett by the shirt, pulls him in, and kisses him, soft but sure. The crowd around them gasps and whistles, but Emmett doesn't even hear them. He's so lost and elated and shocked by the feel of her lips on his... by the fact that _she_ is kissing _him._.. that he barely knows his name right now.

He only knows, feels, and tastes her.

"Rosalie..." He melts into the kiss, tilting his head for a better angle. When he finally pulls back, he sees her shining eyes looking back at him, and he raises his own brows. "Yeah?"

She grins, biting her lip a little. "Definitely yeah."

"All right!"

Emmett wraps his arms around her, earning more cheers and whistles from the crowd, and kisses her in earnest, loving the way she feels in his arms. Rosalie responds in kind, pressing herself closer to him, and Alice clears her throat and addresses the room.

"Let's, uh... let's take this party to the other side of the room, shall we?"

As Alice ushers the group to another part of the lounge, Rosalie sighs. "Emmett..."

"Yeah, baby?"

She moans against his mouth, smiling. "You still owe me a real present."

* * *

 **I'd say that was better than a candle, eh?**

 **See you tomorrow! XOXO**


	11. Chapter 11

**DISCLAIMER: Madame Meyer owns everything in the Twiverse. I'm just a crazy fic writer who just had to do something for Christmas this year.**

 **Two more to go, y'all! Can't believe we're almost done already. You still with me?**

 **Here's #11!**

* * *

 **PROMPT: One of my favorite Christmas songs... "What Do The Lonely Do At Christmas?"... loosely inspired this story.**

 **Word count: 3,821 (AH)**

I take another shot of tequila, setting down the empty glass with a sloppy thud. I've lost count of how many I've had at this point, but it hardly matters.

Nothing matters anymore.

I stare at the image on the screen, my bleary gaze fixed on the wide smiles and touchy-feely hands in the photo. They look so happy, so in love, so damn perfect together that it makes me wanna vomit.

Or maybe that's the tequila.

The photo has been up for less than an hour and already has more than 300 Likes. Three hundred twenty-six to be exact. And even that's a bunch of bullshit. I don't even think they know that many people in real life.

How is this real life right now?

Looking down, I notice there are about half as many Comments as Likes. I know better than to delve into any Comment Section because that's where lunatics live, but before I can stop myself, I click on that section.

And so wish I hadn't.

 _"OMG, soooo cute! Congratulations to the best couple in the world!"_

 _"You guys are absolute perfection! #LoveGoals"_

 _"This is the best news ever! Color me excited!"_

 _"Wooooow... talk about an upgrade, LOL *insider* About time! Love you both! XOXO"_

It's that last comment that kills me. What the hell does "talk about an upgrade" mean? Is that about me? Did people always think I wasn't good enough? Is that why we're not together anymore? Was I... was I the reacher in that relationship, aspiring to be with someone laughably out of my league?

It sure feels like the world is laughing at me now.

I'm scrolling through more comments when my phone rings. Without even checking the number, I know who it is, and I cringe.

She's gonna kill me.

"Hello?"

"Honey..." Rose asks gently. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing." I close my laptop and set it on the coffee table. "Just, um... having a little Christmas Eve celebration of one. Well, two. José is here."

"Uh-huh. Where's your laptop?"

I wince, wondering for the umpteenth time in our friendship if there are hidden cameras in here. "On the coffee table."

"Where was it when I called?"

"Ummm... in my lap."

"Were you on Facebook just now?"

"No." I sigh. "Maybe."

"So you saw it. You saw the announcement."

I hang my head. "Yes."

"Oh, honey..." She tsks sympathetically. "I told you to stay off Facebook today."

I shake my head, not because she's wrong but because everything in my life feels so wrong right now. "How could this happen, Rose? How could they be engaged?"

"I don't know."

"I mean, they despise each other! At least, they always acted like that in front of me!"

"I know."

"Jacob fucking Black." I fist my hands together, the truth hitting me square in the chest. "I should have known. Nobody liked him. Nobody trusted him. But I saw something in him, thought he was better than he was. And in the end, he made a fool of me and proved everybody right."

"I know."

"And Jessica? How many times did I talk to her about him? Cry about what he did? She knew, Rose. She knew it all!"

"I know."

"And now they're getting married?!" The words are all but a screech. "How could they do this to me?"

"I'm sorry, honey. I really am."

I make my way back to the kitchen, pouring another trio of shots. "I just... I can't believe this is happening. And today of all days."

Rose sighs. "This is why I didn't want you to go on Facebook."

"But it's my birthday!" I down the first shot, barely feeling the burn. "The whole point of having a Facebook is getting those birthday greetings from your second cousin and fifth grade teacher and college roommate. Not to find out that the bitch and the asshole are engaged!"

I down the second and third shot in quick succession, leaning against the counter with a muted groan.

"Do you want me to come over?" she asks. "Emmett can drop me off, and I can stay as long as you want."

"No," I say, and not just because I'm too ashamed for anyone to see me like this. "It's Christmas Eve. You should be with your boyfriend."

"You shouldn't be alone on your birthday, honey."

"I'm used to it by now." And I am. Christmas Eve babies are always overlooked because everyone's so busy with last-minute shopping, wrapping presents, and cooking for the big day the next day. Nobody has time to go for a drink, hang out, or do anything worth doing, so I usually Netflix and chill by myself and celebrate with friends the weekend after Christmas.

It sucks, but that's why being in a relationship was so great. There was always at least one person who would make the day special for me...

"I'm coming over," Rose says, and her determination touches my heart. "Unlock your door."

"No, Rose. I appreciate the thought, but I... I really would like to be alone. I promise I'll put down the bottle." And I really should, given the slur in my last words. "And not go back on Facebook for the rest of the day."

She hesitates. "Are you sure?"

"Positiii... absoluuu... yes." Shorter words are better right now. "I'm sure."

"All right. But you listen to me: if you need me later on and don't call, I will come over there and kick your ass. I mean, I'll help you once I find out what's wrong, but after you're all better, I will kick your ass from here to next year."

"I love you," I say and mean. I don't know what I would do without her. "I'll call you tomorrow."

"Okay, honey. Love you too."

I end the call and set down the phone, concentrating way too hard to do both. Though I've reached my drinking limit, I still down the last shot—because I won't waste good liquor—and make my way toward the couch. But the sight of my laptop makes my stomach burn, so I drop to the floor instead. The sudden change of altitude isn't good for my head either, and my eyes slide closed to help me be still.

But the picture from Facebook haunts me behind my lids, and I don't even try to stop the tears.

I must cry myself to sleep for the next thing I know, I have a cramp in my back, a sour taste in my mouth, and...

And a blanket covering my body.

My eyes pop open, and I sit up to look around, regretting it instantly. The pain in my head is wild and unforgiving, and I curse aloud.

"Pretty talk," comes the words from behind me. "You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"Wha..." I turn around carefully, stunned to see who's sitting on my couch. "Bella?"

"Who else?" She smirks at me then nods at the empty bottle on the coffee table. "Looks like José won this round."

"What are you..." I blink slowly, trying to see only one of her. "How did you..."

"Doing here? Get in?" She shakes her head at me. "Come on, Edward. You think I was gonna let you go through this alone?"

"Go through what?"

Her brown eyes soften. "I was on Facebook today too."

"Oh." I shrug it off. "Well, I'm fine."

"Yeah, you look it." She pushes up from the couch and comes to stand above me. "Let's go."

I look up at her, the motion making me dizzy. "Go where?"

"Into the bedroom so I can have my wicked way with you." The words roll so easily off her tongue that I'm almost shocked by it. But her eyes betray nothing but mirth. "We gotta get you cleaned up."

"Why?"

"Because that bitch isn't worth falling apart over and neither is the asshole-formerly-known-as-your-best-friend. Besides..." She shrugs. "You shouldn't spend your birthday face-down on the floor. Unless you're into that sort of thing."

I shake my head, incredulous, amused, embarrassed, and touched all at once.

"So come on." She extends a hand. "Let's get you upright."

I let Bella help me to my feet, stumbling into her as I try to stand. She holds me by my shoulders, her face mere inches from mine, and she smiles softly. "I've got you."

We make our way to the kitchen where she dumps me onto a stool at the island. She walks over to my fridge and throws open the door, peering inside. "Rather slim pickins, Cullen."

I rest my forehead in my palm. "I haven't had time to shop."

"Because otherwise there'd be a culinary cornucopia in here." She drops to a squat to inspect the lower shelves. "Looks like we're getting back to basics."

She pulls out eggs, butter, shredded cheddar, and a bunch of spinach I cannot account for. She opens the oven to pull out my skillet, finds the mixing bowl under the sink, and I marvel at how well she knows this place.

And wonder how she knew to come here.

"Did Rose call you?" I ask.

"No, and she didn't have to." Bella cracks an egg, checking the bowl for shell bits. "I would have been here even if Jess and Jacob hadn't chosen today to announce their engagement."

The mention of them worsens my headache. "Why?"

"Didn't I answer that already?" She sets the pan on the stove and clicks on the burner. "You're drunker than I thought."

"You know what I mean. It's Christmas Eve, and I know your parents have that huge pajama party for you, Angela, and Bree. And your dad already doesn't like me."

"He doesn't know you," Bella corrects gently. "But no, he wasn't too thrilled that time you brought me home from the Soph Hop with a broken arm..."

"Which you sustained while trying to kick Lauren Mallory in the face..."

"Because she called you a 'four-eyed freak' then threw your glasses on the floor." Bella's face pinches in anger. "And if I hadn't worn those stupid heels that night, I would have broken her nose instead of my arm."

I chuckle at the memory. "Your dad was so pissed at me."

"But I've explained to him several times that you weren't even my date—James was." She whips the eggs briskly, her eyes on me. "But he was hooking up with Vicki Laurent in the bathroom, so he couldn't bring me home."

"And I didn't ask you to defend me," I say not unkindly.

"He knows that too."

Bella sets the eggs aside and adds butter to the pan, the gentle sizzle filling the silence between us. "Why did you?" I ask after a moment.

"Why did I what?"

"Defend me." I note her current position at my stove. "Like you're doing right now."

"I'm not defending you: I'm making breakfast. Well, dinner."

"Bella."

"Edward..." Bella's back is to me, so I can't see her face. She reaches for the spinach and dumps it into the pan. "You should drink some water."

"What?"

"Don't want you getting dehydrated before you can try these eggs." She moves the spinach around with a spatula. "I promise you: they're the best you've never had."

"Fine."

I slide off the stool, mildly annoyed with her evasiveness. Bella and I have always had a strange relationship. We're friends with the same people—her best friend Alice is my best friend Rose's sister. My brother Jasper is Alice's boyfriend, and Jasper's best friend is Emmett, Rosalie's boyfriend. We're all only a few years apart, attended the same school, and generally spent most of our teen years together.

But while the lines between everyone else have always been clearly defined, Bella and I have always had trouble finding our groove. We are two odd ends for a pair of couples, and that often gets weird. Whenever the six of us are together, people naturally assume Bella and I are together. Bella seldom corrects them, playing it up by sitting on my lap or nuzzling my neck. And I allow it, feeding her dessert or whispering jokes in her ear. But when the moment passes or the night is through, nothing more ever comes of it.

(Not that I want it to or anything.)

That didn't really change when I started dating Jessica. Well, except we all didn't go out as much. By then, Rose and Emmett had just moved in together, Alice and Jasper were on opposite coasts trying to make it work, and Bella was still Bella—working at her parents' cleaning company, living in the apartment above their garage, and staying generally to herself.

Yet whenever something bad happened in my life, Bella surpassed even Rose in her determination to make everything better. She almost moved in here when I had strep throat two years ago, running back and forth to the pharmacy to keep my prescription filled. She made me shower and eat and held my hand when my Dad had heart surgery last May. And she egged Jacob's house and car when he stole my job at the firm this summer.

I'd thought Rose was kidding about that until I saw the pictures.

And now that my ex-girlfriend of five weeks is engaged to my former best friend, Bella's back with more eggs, trying to make me feel better about trying to drink myself stupid.

And the selfless beauty of that nearly makes me cry.

I pull out a bottle of water of the fridge and unscrew the cap, taking a swig as I return to my side of the counter. Bella hums as she works at the stove, and I inhale through my nose to appreciate the aroma.

But the scent must hit the wrong part of my senses because I instantly feel sick.

"Whoa." I set down the water bottle, my stomach twisting on itself. "Oh, no..."

Bella turns around. "What's wrong?"

I want to answer her, but my digestive track has other ideas. My eyes widen as I realize what's happening, and I fly to the bathroom, leaning over the toilet just in time. I have no desire to describe what happens next, but suffice it to say that when I am finished, I can only slide to the floor, laying my head on the bathroom mat with a groan.

"If you didn't want eggs," she says above me. "You could have just said so."

I can't even bear to look at her, let alone respond, and thankfully she doesn't seem to expect me to. I hear the brief running of water before she joins me on the floor. She squeezes beneath the sink to lay behind me, and I soon feel her hand running up and down my back.

"Come here," she whispers, and I'm too ashamed to obey. But in typical Bella fashion, she brings me closer without my help, resting my head on her lap.

"Bella..."

The cool comfort of a damp cloth silences my protests, and my eyes flutter shut in relief. She gently runs the rag back and forth across my forehead, humming some more. The exhaustion of the day—the photo, the sickness, and the embarrassment of it all—begins to catch up to me, and I feel myself drifting off.

"Bella..."

"Shhh." The stroke of the cloth gets gentler and slower. "Just rest."

Despite myself, I snuggle closer, feeling far too comfortable on this cold hard floor. I start to relax, reveling in her touch, and remember something.

"You never answered my question," I mumble, the words taking way too long to come out. "About why you're here..."

"Edward..." Bella continues her gentle attention to my forehead. "Go to sleep."

"But..."

"Sleep."

"Mmm... 'kay."

I fall silent, too tired to persist in my questioning, and give myself over to the call of unconsciousness. The rag disappears, and I prepare to be placed on the floor as Bella will need to get up.

Instead, she pulls me closer, running her hand through my hair as she continues to hum. The sensation soothes me from the inside out, and my breathing slows and evens out, the release of sleep mere moments away.

And it is then that I feel the tender pressure of Bella's lips against my temple, her soft moan of satisfaction as she kisses me there.

"You're not ready for that answer, baby," she murmurs. "But that's okay. Because until you are, I will be right here defending you, protecting you, and loving you as best as I can. So for now..." She plants a kiss on my head. "Sleep, Edward. Sleep and know I'll be here when you wake up."

I almost stop breathing as her words seep through my sleepiness, shock and awe nearly waking me up. Bella clearly believes I cannot hear her, so I have every right to feign sleep.

But as I drift off, I cannot pretend Bella Swan hasn't just rocked me to my core.

My sleep is deep yet restless. All night long, I see her face in myriad ways, hear her voice in every wind. My mind replays scenes from our lives through an entirely different lens, and by the time I open my eyes on Christmas morning, everything looks new. My head may be pounding, my body quite sore, but I have never felt better.

Or seen things clearer.

"Good morning," Bella whispers, not wanting to startle me. "Though that hangover you're nursing might make you feel differently."

I turn my head to look up at her, and she chuckles lightly at my expression. As I stare at her in silence, her laughter simmers then stops altogether. "What's wrong? Do you want me to move?"

"No." I clear my throat of its grogginess. "No, I definitely don't want that."

She opens her mouth, a snarky look in her eyes. But as she looks at me looking at her, she falls silent, seemingly shy. "Edward?"

"You love me."

She blinks. "What?"

"I heard you... before I went to sleep." I sit up slowly, holding her stunned gaze unblinking. "You love me."

"I'm..." Bella looks away and scrambles to her feet. "Edward, you..."

"It's okay. Because I love you too."

She gapes down at me. "What?"

"I love you too." I stand up, smiling at her confusion. "Sorry I didn't know before now."

"Edward, stop." She holds up her hands, shaking her head. "You don't love me."

"I don't?"

"No."

"How do you know?"

"Because you..." Her mouth moves without sound, and she huffs. "Because you can't."

"I can't?"

"No!" She throws up her hands. "You don't love me. You're grateful I'm here and... and upset about Jessica and Jake and..."

"Is that why you think you love me?" I ask gently. "Because I'm no longer with Jessica and don't have a job and you're grateful for the excuse to take care of me?"

"What? How could you say something like that?"

"I'm just saying." I step around her to the sink, using last night's washcloth to wipe my face. "If I can't love you all of a sudden, then you shouldn't be able to love me either."

"That makes no sense!"

"It makes perfect sense."

"Edward!"

I look back at her in the mirror. "Yes?"

She opens her mouth to argue further, but when she sees the smirk on my face, she smacks my shoulder with a snort. "You are so annoying."

"That is true." I turn to face her. "But you love me."

She looks into my eyes, her whole heart on display. "I do, Edward. So, so much."

"Good."

"But I mean it." She steps back. "I don't want you saying this to me just because I said it to you when I thought you were asleep."

"Well, how do I know you didn't just say it to me because you thought I was asleep?"

"I didn't say..." She purses her lips. "Is this what being with you is going to be like?"

"As long as you're with me." I take her hands in mine. "Does it matter?"

She smiles slowly, her whole face alight. "Nope. Not at all." She stands on tiptoe, tilting her head up toward my mouth, and I lean down to meet her.

But I open my eyes when I realize she's pulled back. "What?"

"Ummm... I'm happy you love me." She reaches around me and hands me my toothbrush. "But I don't want our first kiss tainted by post-puke morning breath."

"You don't?" I bring my arms around her, trapping her against me as I bend to her face. "Are you suuuuuuuure?"

"Oh my god, Edward! Stoooop!"

Bella wriggles and twists to get away from me, and when I finally release her, she runs out of the bathroom, closing the door with a giddy laugh. I laugh along with her before brushing my teeth, swishing around some mouthwash for good measure. When I return to the living room, Bella is walking toward the couch with a new bottle of water and some aspirin. After I take the pills, I set down the bottle and pat the spot next to me on the sofa. She rolls her eyes and blushes, curling up beside me.

"Hi."

"Hi," she replies almost shyly.

I flash a wide smile. "I brushed my teeth."

"Good."

I take a moment to just look at her, wondering how I didn't see what was between us before. And as I bask in her loveliness, I realize something else I hadn't seen before, and I reach for my laptop.

"There's something I need to do," I say, noting her curious look as I pull up Facebook. I find the photo of Jessica and Jacob and click on 'Comment.'

" _Thank you for making this announcement on my birthday,"_ I write. _"It is the best gift you could have given me!"_

"Hmm..." Bella snuggles closer, reading over my shoulder. "I know you're sincere, and you know you're sincere, but everyone else will read it like..."

"Like I'm being sarcastic. Yeah, you're right." I delete the message and set the laptop back on the table. "Sometimes it's best to appreciate a gift in silence."

"Or in the arms of the one you love."

I look over at her, my heart soaring. "Yeah."

Bella leans in just as I do, and we share a light kiss, brimming with promise. It's all so new I hardly know how to behave around her, but I know I want to protect this, respect this, and savor every moment we're able to share.

When we break apart, Bella loops her arm in mine, laying her head on my shoulder. "This is the best Christmas morning ever."

I sigh in contentment. "Yes, it is."

"Edward?"

"Yes, love?"

"Can I egg Jessica's house?"

I bark a laugh and kiss her again. "You wouldn't be the girl I love if you didn't."

* * *

 **This story kinda got away from me and became something different than I envisioned, but I hope you still enjoyed it.**

 **Last one posts tomorrow... see you then! XO**


	12. Chapter 12

**DISCLAIMER: Madame Meyer owns everything in the Twiverse. I'm just a crazy fic writer who just had to do something for Christmas this year.**

 **Okay, peeps. This is the last one... the longest one yet at more than 5,000 words! I think it's the perfect story to end this collection, and I really hope you like it.**

 **So Happy New Year's Eve, and I'll see you at the bottom :)**

* * *

 **PROMPT: Carlisle and Esme expecting their 11 grandchildren for Christmas (suggested by Lizzie Page).**

 **Word count: 5,391 (AH)**

Esme stands by her bedroom window, her eager gaze focused on the street. Every now and then, a passing car goes by, but each is too fast to be any of the three she's looking for.

"Es?" her husband calls from downstairs.

"Yes?"

"Are you standing by the window again?"

"No. Still, uh... trying to decide which shoes to wear."

"Oh, lord." The dread in his voice is almost comical. "Then, uh... I'll see you when you come down."

"Okay."

She waits a beat then goes back to the window to keep her vigil. The mention of her shoes makes her look down at her outfit, and she actually contemplates a change of clothes. But the worn jeans, comfy red tee, and reindeer-themed socks are exactly what this occasion calls for.

Though she might break out the antler headband.

Smiling at the thought, Esme looks out the window again and gasps, placing a hand against her chest. Throwing open her bedroom window, she yells, "You scared me!"

"And you're a terrible liar." Carlisle grins up at her from their modest front yard. "Now get out of that window and come down here."

She sticks out her tongue at him, and he begins to unfasten his belt buckle. "Well, I'll never say no to that..."

"Carlisle Algernon Cullen!" She cannot believe he still acts this way. "Behave yourself!"

"Sorry." He shrugs, fixing his belt. "I thought you were offering."

She closes the window with a shake of her head, marveling that after a decade together, he still has the ability to shock, delight, and enrapture her. There are plenty of smiles now, to be sure, but once upon a time, things were quite different.

Carlisle met Esme during his pediatric residency at a small hospital in Forks, Washington. She was a volunteer in her senior year at the local high school who offered snacks, water, and pleasant conversation to anxious NICU parents. He'd caught a glimpse of her as he was getting on an elevator and lost his heart in an instant. The age difference between them was of some concern, but he felt he had no choice but to know her. And over the next year, casual talks in the lounge became long dinners in the cafeteria which became a heart-shaped opal on bended knee. Their romance bloomed quickly, too quickly in the eyes of some, but Esme knew Carlisle loved her, and she couldn't wait to start their lives together as husband and wife.

But as often happens, life made other plans without their permission, and it was in the ninth year of their marriage that Esme discovered she was unable to have children. They had been actively trying since year four, wanting to have a few years just to themselves, but to no avail. And when the doctors broke the news after months of tests and waiting and needles and more tests, the confirmation had been such a shock that Esme has all but blocked out the medical reasons why, though Carlisle could surely explain if necessary.

But what difference would it make? The tragic result was the same.

"A mother of two." As long as Esme could remember, she'd loved the sound of that phrase and knew it would someday define her life. "A mother of two" was all she'd ever wanted to be when she grew up, the lone goal of her existence, and losing that possibility wrecked her in every possible way.

Carlisle grieved with her, comforted her, and did everything he could to show her she wasn't alone, but it wasn't enough. Because the thing was... she felt alone. Alone and cruelly betrayed by her body. And no matter how many books she tried to read or how many affirmations she spoke over her life, Esme could not get her spark back.

So dark and pervasive was her sadness after nearly two years, Carlisle feared she might never come out of it. He knew there was no replacing the life she'd craved and lost, but he thought that if she could find purpose in something else, maybe she might come back to herself. And after talking to a few colleagues at work, Carlisle had an idea that she would either love or hate him for.

"You want me to what?" she'd cried, her hazel eyes bright with rage.

"Just hear me out." He had anticipated this reaction . "I think if you went there and..."

"And what?" she roared. "And pretend that I feel sorry for these poor girls who are stuck with the burden of doing exactly what I can't do? To offer them words of wisdom without pretending I'm not drowning with envy at the sight of their swollen bellies? What the hell would make you think I could benefit from something like that, Carlisle?"

"I wasn't thinking only of your benefit," he said carefully, fearing she might actually strike him. "I was... well, I was thinking of the day in the NICU you spent with the young woman whose mother was flying 31 hours from Ireland to be with her. Her mother hadn't wanted her to move to the states, resented her for being selfish, and hadn't spoken to her daughter in six years as a result. But when she heard her daughter and granddaughter were in trouble, nothing could keep the mother away. The woman couldn't stop crying, and you sat and talked with her for nearly an hour about the wonderful gift of a mother's love."

Esme eyed him cautiously. "What's your point?"

"That very morning, your own mother had disowned you for choosing me, a lowly resident with a mountain of student debt, over Chuck Evenson, the rich boy she'd intended you to marry," Carlisle said gently. "But in that moment, you weren't thinking about your own pain because you were trying to be there for someone else, and I just thought that..."

"Well, nobody asked you what you thought!" she snapped, pushing away from the dining room table. "And you can tell whoever gave you that ridiculous idea to mind their own damn business!"

Carlisle didn't bring it up again and didn't offer her any more suggestions. The silence between them was a different sort of thick now, and neither knew how to overcome it.

But a few weeks later, Esme was making the bed and she knocked over some papers from his nightstand. As she bent to pick them up, she saw a brochure for "The Home for Unwed Mothers" with a volunteer application attached. Esme gasped in horror, outraged by the inherent judgment in the name of the place, for it was just the type of phrasing her mother would use. The idea that these girls had been subjected to similar treatment—or worse—ignited a fire in Esme's belly she'd long since been missing. She showered and dressed quickly, grabbed her keys and coat, and was in the Chief Administrator's office within minutes.

But Esme was pleased to discover that despite the unfortunate name, The Home was a loving place for people to go when they had nowhere else to go. Sometimes the stories were tragic, sometimes just unfortunate, but the workers and volunteers all strove to give these mothers the best possible start. Esme's ire cooled considerably while speaking with Administrator Cope, and after touring the home herself, she applied and was accepted as a volunteer.

And that's where she found her daughters.

Alice was a spunky thing who was "totes" in love with her boyfriend Jazzy. He was the drummer in his cousin's band, Amused Bouche, and they were really big on the small-town rave circuit. He was constantly on tour and never had any money, so when Alice got pregnant during his last visit, her parents kicked her out. But she didn't mind because when Jazzy made it big, all their problems would go away.

Bella was the girlfriend of one James Hunter, an entrepreneur of sorts who talked a big game. They'd met at an airport—she was heading out; he was coming in—and he persuaded her to stay with him. Exclusive shows, first-class accommodations, and hands like velvet had Bella falling in love before she even knew his middle name. But two months later when she told him she was pregnant, he told her never to call him again.

Heaven forbid his wife should find out just what had happened in Vegas.

Rosalie was a different story altogether. She never spoke about her past or the father of her twins. In fact, in the four months since her arrival at The Home, Rosalie hadn't spoken at all. Her violet eyes were bright and alert, and she could often be found in her room, rubbing her belly and humming softly when she thought no one was looking. But outside of the occasional sneeze or cry of surprise when startled, Rosalie remained silent.

But she found herself blossoming when Esme started visiting The Home to read stories in the lounge on some days and direct group activities on others. Rosalie didn't know what it was about the new volunteer that touched her so much, but on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays, she made sure to be the first one in the lounge so she could get a good seat for whatever Esme had planned. The first time Rosalie smiled at Esme, Esme's heart swelled ten sizes. And when Rosalie came up to her after her third week there and whispered, "Thank you for coming," Esme nearly fainted.

But instead of passing out, she flew out of The Home after her volunteer shift and straight to Carlisle at the hospital, her eyes brimming with excitement.

"You want to what?" Carlisle asked.

"Bring Rosalie home," she said. "To us."

"I... I think it's wonderful that you care so much," he said gently. "But honey, why would you do that?"

"Because..." Esme looked into his eyes. "She's my daughter."

And that was all she had to say.

Unfortunately, Administrator Cope had a lot more to say on the subject.

"I'm not sure this has ever happened before," she said cautiously, looking between Carlisle and Esme the next morning. "I mean, volunteers have certainly accompanied mothers to their appointments or taken them shopping. In one case, we even had someone throw a baby shower for an abused mother of triplets."

"Oh, I would never do that!" Esme shook her head. "Rosalie would hate that kind of attention."

"My point, Mrs. Cullen, is that we don't..." Administrator Cope cleared her throat. "That is, we cannot sanction fraternization between volunteers and mothers outside of The Home. Liability issues and all that."

Carlisle squeezed Esme's hand as her heart sank. "I see."

"However." Administrator Cope leaned forward, lowering her voice. "These women are here of their own free will. So if, for example, someone decided to leave and go somewhere else, well, there would be little we could do to stop them."

Esme brightened. "I see!"

"I'm glad that you do," Administrator Cope said sternly, frowning for added effect. "Rules are rules, after all."

Esme couldn't hold back her smile. "They certainly are."

"I should also mention that if, for example, a volunteer happened to have a conversation with one of the mothers about possibly staying somewhere else, that would be a conversation I should not overhear." Administrator Cope looked at Carlisle. "So on a totally unrelated note, do you have any questions for me, Dr. Cullen?"

"I certainly do." He leaned back in his chair, laying his ankle across his knee. "And I'm afraid they may take some time to answer."

Administrator Cope sighed. "Very well."

"And these questions are of a rather confidential nature," he added. "So I think it best if my wife left the room. Sensitivity concerns and so forth."

"Well, if that's what he wants." Esme came to her feet, shaking her head. "Then I guess I'll find somewhere else to be."

Administrator Cope's eyes softened as she looked at Esme. "I think that's a wonderful idea."

Esme all but ran upstairs to Rosalie's room, surprised to find Alice and Bella in there also. They appeared to be having some sort of in-house pamper day—Alice was braiding Bella's hair, Bella was painting Rosalie's nails, and Rosalie was humming again, the soft song providing the perfect soundtrack to the sweet domestic scene.

And as Esme looked at the three girls together, her plans tripled in size.

She spent an entire hour with the girls without saying a word, concerned for the first time that they might not be willing to go live with a woman they'd only known a few weeks. Stability was important during pregnancy, and permanent or not, The Home had been exactly that for them, and Esme didn't want to ruin that.

But when she prepared to take her leave, all three of their faces fell.

"Are you coming back tomorrow?" Alice asked. "I didn't get to play you Jazzy's new song."

"And you didn't tell me which book we'd be reading next month," Bella said. "I want to read it at least once before we meet."

Rosalie just looked at her, violet eyes shining. "Bye," she murmured.

Esme's bottom lip trembled, and she burst into tears, spilling her plans to the girls before she could stop herself. The entire room went silent, three sets of eyes blinking at Esme and each other, until Alice whispered, "You... you want us to live with you?"

Esme nodded, her cheeks damp. "Yes."

"All of us?" Bella asked.

"Yes."

"But what..." Rosalie's voice was so soft Esme could barely hear her. "What about the babies?"

"Well, if it's okay with you..." Esme crossed the room and sat beside her. "They can be my grandbabies."

"Holy crap!" Alice shouted then covered her mouth. "Are you for real?"

"I'm totes for real," Esme cried, causing the girls to laugh. Then she sobered a bit. "But... but only if you really want to. I realize this has been your home for the last few months, and I would never assume you'd want..."

"When can we go?" Rosalie asked.

Esme took her hand, looking at Bella and Alice also. "As soon as I can clean my house and..."

"Oh, we don't care if it's clean." Bella ambled to her feet, her big belly quite in the way. "We just wanna go!"

Esme laughed, tears still streaming. "I'm thrilled to hear that, Bella, but I can't have the three of you sleeping on my living room floor now, can I?"

Bella giggled. "I suppose not."

"I'm so excited!" Alice clapped her hands. "I can't wait to tell Jazzy."

"Make sure you don't tell him too loudly," Esme said. "We don't want to tip off the staff. Volunteers taking mothers home would reflect poorly on this place."

"Right." Alice mimed zipping her lip. "I'll call him tonight."

"And I need to take a nap." Bella yawned. "All this excitement has worn me out."

Esme chuckled. "I know the feeling."

Bella and Alice walked toward Rosalie's door, looked at each other, then turned to Esme.

"Could we..." Alice hesitated, and Bella nudged her. "I mean, would it be okay if we gave you a hug?"

Esme melted inside. "Of course, Alice. That would be more than okay."

Alice and Bella did their best to envelop Esme in a hug, but their bellies only allowed for so much closeness. The three of them dissolved into laughter at the awkward angles, and Esme stepped back with a smile. "We'll have to work on that."

Bella looked at Esme. "So you'll be back..."

"Every day," Esme said. "Until... well, until there's no one to come back to."

Bella grinned. "I like the sound of that."

"Bye, Esme!" Alice waved then raised her voice. "Thanks for the hair-braiding lesson. It was very informative."

She gave an exaggerated wink as Bella ushered her out of the room. When they were alone at last, Esme turned to Rosalie who was watching her closely.

"I didn't want to say anything in front of them," Esme began. "But I wanted to ask you how you felt about living with a man."

Rosalie's eyes widened, and she didn't respond.

"I don't know much about your past," Esme continued. "But I have to assume that if your babies are the result, it likely involved some horrible man."

Rosalie looked down, a tear trailing down her cheek, and nodded.

"I thought so." Esme patted her hand. "And I am so very sorry to hear that."

"I..." Rosalie paused, further lowering her voice. "I don't talk about it."

"And you'll never have to. Not unless you want to. But Rosalie..." She waited for her to look up. "I want you to know that my husband is the kindest, gentlest man that has ever lived. He would never hurt you, disrespect you, or even violate your privacy. And if... if you wanted him to give you lots of space or not to speak to you unless you speak to him first, he's perfectly willing to do that. Or anything else to make you comfortable."

Rosalie gasped, shaking her head. "No."

"No?" Esme's stomach dropped. "No, what?"

"I can't..." She waited for the words to come. "I can't let you do that. Not for me."

Esme squeezed the hand she was holding. "I would do that and more for you, Rosalie."

"But why?" Her violet eyes shone with feeling. "Why would you do that for me?"

Esme wanted to give her the same answer she gave Carlisle, but she thought that might be a lot for the timid blonde to hear. So she settled for an easier truth.

"Because two years ago when I learned that I couldn't have children, after five years of trying, a part of me died. I had no joy, no light, and no purpose in my life." Esme laid a hand against Rosalie's cheek. "But then you smiled at me one day in the meeting room. And for the first time in two years, I felt something more than empty. I felt... I felt special and wanted and worthwhile. You gave that gift to me, Rosalie, with just a smile, and I want to give you just a portion of that in return, if you'll let me."

Rosalie stared at Esme for a long time, and Esme feared she'd said too much.

Then the young blonde threw her arms around Esme's neck, squeezing with all her might. "Thank you."

Esme rubbed her back, her own eyes welling with tears. "No. Thank _you._ "

"Es!" Carlisle bellows from downstairs. "Come on!"

She blinks out of her memories. "Are they here?"

"Alice said she and Jasper are six minutes away!"

She lets out a little squeal. "I'm coming!"

This time, Esme does leave her bedroom and heads for the staircase, pausing to look down the hall at the other two bedrooms. When Carlisle and Esme left The Home that afternoon, they rushed home to figure out how to reconfigure their space. The three-bedroom house was certainly big enough for the life they'd initially envisioned, but with three girls and four babies soon arriving, they had to look at things through fresh eyes. And after a quick discussion, it was decided that the four babies would share the smallest room, Carlisle and Esme would take the mid-size space, and the three girls would be given the master bedroom with its large closet and modern en suite.

Carlisle then enlisted the help of his concerned colleagues over the next three days to help paint and move furniture around. His superiors learned what he and Esme were doing, and they jumped in with convertible cribs, new beds, dressers, and all the accessories four children and their mothers could ever need. But it was the brand new minivan in the driveway that stunned Esme when she came back from The Home the day before the girls were to move in.

"I could never do what you're doing," read the anonymous note. "But I want you to know how much I appreciate it."

Esme never discovered the author of the note, but whoever it was had her eternal gratitude. And it was in that minivan that Esme met the girls at a coffee shop down the street from The Home the next morning, the day they'd all decided to leave.

Unrelatedly, of course.

"Crazy coincidence," Administrator Cope wrote in her official notes on the departures of the three girls. "Nothing more to say on the subject."

The girls arrived at the Cullen house with wide eyes and even wider grins. Hearing about what Esme and Carlisle wanted to do for them was one thing, but seeing it with their own eyes was more than they could process.

Even Alice was speechless.

The girls went upstairs to the room they would share, and Esme held her breath. This was the part she was most nervous about, and she prayed the girls wouldn't be too disappointed. She'd crammed two twin beds and a daybed into the room, adding two rocking chairs and a cushioned chair for extra seating. Each bed boasted a monogrammed throw pillow, the girls' first initials welcoming them to their new resting places. The room was cozy and well decorated, but there was no illusion of privacy.

Would that be the deal-breaker?

No one spoke as they looked around the room, and Esme thought she might pass out for wondering what they were thinking. But almost on cue, each girl turned to Esme with a different but equally bright grin, and Esme relaxed.

"It's perfect," Rosalie said at nearly normal volume. "Thank you."

" _It wasn't perfect_ ," Esme chuckles to herself as she remembers. Three new mothers... four, including Esme... and four babies quickly became an experiment in chaos. There were arguments, sleepless nights, and threats to move out...

And that was just between Carlisle and Esme.

But like all families, they eventually found a groove that worked for them, and by the time the oldest baby was a year old, The Cullen home was everything Esme had dreamed and more.

So much more.

A chorus of honking horns startles Esme out of her thoughts, and she squeals like a little girl. "They're here! They're all here!"

"I'm jealous." Carlisle smiles as she reaches the bottom of the stairs. "I remember when I used to make you come running like that."

"Oh, shut up." She grins up at him wickedly. "You know I always come for you."

His eyes darken. "You are awful for teasing me like that when our grandkids are just outside."

She kisses him quickly. "That's what you get!"

He huffs. "Just for that, somebody's getting coal in their stocking."

She waves him off, too giddy for words, and opens the door with a grin. "Merry Christmas!"

"Hey, Ma-Me!" Alice reaches the step first, hoisting a little one on her hip. "I hope you're in a diaper-changing mood."

"I'm always in a diaper-changing mood." She kisses Alice's cheek, tickling the curly-haired girl in her arms. "Did Avery have an accident?"

"Ma-Me!" Avery cries excitedly. "I pee-pee!"

"Yes, you did, munchkin!" Alice kisses her daughter's cheek and sets her down, turning to Esme. " _Somebody_ gave her a giant cup of water before we left the house."

"She said she was thirsty, Ma!" Jasper comes up the steps with their other daughter, Lexie, in tow. "What was I supposed to do?"

"It's fine, Jazzy." Esme hugs him hello. "We've got plenty of diapers and extra clothes."

"Pee-pee!" Avery laughs again, running into Carlisle's waiting arms. "Pee-pee, PaPaw!"

"Hey, I pee-pee, too!" Carlisle says, making Avery scream with laughter.

"I don't pee-pee in diapers, Ma-Me!" Lexie beams proudly. "I got on sparkly pink underwear like Mommy!"

"Of course you do!" Esme cracks up. "That's because you're a big girl now!"

"I have on underwears too, Ma-Me!" a blond little boy calls out as he climbs the stairs. "But Denny doesn't."

"Yes, I do!" the boy who is presumably Denny replies hotly. "Mines are just different, right, Mommy?"

"That's right, love." Rosalie smiles down at her twin boys. "And they've got race cars on them too."

"Whoa!" Carlisle bends to scoop up both boys with Avery still around his neck and pretends to struggle under their collective weight. "I wish I had race cars on my underwears!"

The boys look at each other, and Denny shakes his head. "PaPaw, mens don't wear race cars on their underwears."

Carlisle looks shocked. "They don't?"

"No!" The boys giggle. "They have grown-up stuff."

"Like bagels and taxes," the blond boy says as Carlisle carries them into the den.

"Tack-shess!" Avery giggles. "Tack-shess!"

"Is Denny still struggling with potty training?" Esme asks as she hugs Rosalie.

"Yeah. Derek took to it right away, but it's taking Denny a little longer."

"Don't worry about it." Esme helps her take off her coat. "Everything happens in due time."

Rosalie turns around, smiling at the open doorway. "It certainly does."

"Ho ho ho!" calls out a booming voice. "Merry Christmas, everyone!"

"Merry Christmas, Emmett!" Esme rushes over to the big bear of a man who has just walked in. "Is Dylan asleep?"

"Out like a light." He smiles down at the car seat on his arm. "But I think we should wake her up."

"You will do no such thing," Rosalie chides gently. "You know how fussy she gets when you wake her up prematurely."

"Aw, you're no fun." He hands the car seat to Esme and turns to Rosalie. "It's a good thing you're hot."

"You're hot, Auntie Rosie?" Lexie asks with great concern as she returns to the foyer. "Maybe you should go eat some snow."

"That's a great idea!" She beams down at the little girl. "Maybe you can take Uncle Emmett outside and help him gather some."

"Sweet!" Emmett cries, taking Lexie's hand. "Let's go get some bowls from the kitchen."

Esme looks through the window. "There's barely three inches on the ground."

Rosalie smiles fondly at her husband of two years. "He won't care."

"Boys!" someone calls from outside. "Don't go running in Ma-Me's house like that!"

"Okay, Dad!" The five boys reply as they do just that. "Merry Christmas, Ma-Me!"

"Merry Christmas, boys!" She wraps her arms around them, kissing one of each cheek in turn. "How are you?"

"Hungry!"

"Tired!"

"Bored."

"Happy."

"Stinky!" The littlest one frowns as Esme looks at him. "I farted."

The other boys dissolve into laughter as a bronze-haired man walks in after them. "What did I tell you about farting?" he asks.

"Whoever smelt it, dealt it?" the oldest boy suggests.

Esme's lips clamp together to hold in a laugh as she looks at the man. "He's got you there, Edward."

Edward shakes his head. "What am I going to do with them?"

"Bring them outside!" Emmett cries as he appears with bowls. "We're gathering snow for ice cream."

Edward chuckles. "There's only two inches of snow out there."

"Then we better get it all before it melts!" Emmett gathers the troops. "Let's go!"

The five boys and Lexie trail after Emmett with a shout, nearly running over Bella who is holding a young girl's hand.

"Where are they going, Mommy?" she asks.

"Hopefully to burn off some energy with Uncle Emmett." She smiles at Esme. "But you can stay in here with us where it's warm."

"Where's PaPaw?" she asks. "I wanna show him my new doll."

"He's in the den with Avery."

"Avery's here?" the girl screeches. "Yay!"

Bella chuckles. "Can you say 'hi' to your Ma-Me?"

"Oh!" The girl runs at Esme, wrapping her arms around her legs. "Hi, Ma-Me!"

"Hi, April!" She hugs her from above. "Merry Christmas."

"Uh-huh." April tears out of her coat and drops it to the ground before running into the den. "Averyyyyyyy!"

"Aprilllll!" comes the reply, making Bella and Esme laugh. "I love their bond," Esme says.

"Yeah." Bella picks up April's coat. "It's good that she gets some girl time every now and then. She could use it."

"I'll bet you could, too." Esme nudges her playfully. "Five boys is a lot."

"They really are." But her smile says she doesn't mind. "But Edward is a great father, so we make it work."

Bella had recently met a slightly older man who had adopted five boys of his own. Bella fell in love with his generosity—and gorgeousness—and didn't think twice about becoming his wife. It had only been about eight months, and they were still figuring things out. But there was no doubt of how much they loved each other.

"Don't ever hesitate to bring them here if you need a break." Esme loops her arm through Bella's. "We're always happy to have them here."

"Well..." Bella trails off as she hangs up April's coat. "My parents have actually been helping out with that."

Esme's eyebrows shoot up. "Really?"

"Yeah." Bella smiles a little. She hadn't heard from her parents after they learned she had an affair with a married man, a subject she seldom spoke about. "They reached out just after April's last birthday, wanting to see her. We've been taking it slow, but they seem sincere. And it's been nice having them around again."

Esme rests her hand on Bella's arm. "I'm happy for you. Truly."

"Thanks." Bella relaxes, and Esme realizes she was nervous to tell her. "That means a lot."

"Of course." The two women head into the den where Carlisle is riding Denny and Derek on his back like a horse, and Avery and April are huddled in a corner introducing their new favorite dolls. Alice and Jasper are flipping through Carlisle's record collection, eager to get the dance party started.

And Rosalie is in her favorite spot, the rocking chair by the fireplace, holding baby Dylan. She's looking out the bay window and smiling, likely at her husband as he frolics in the snow like the big kid he is, and Esme could not be more thrilled at the sight.

Bella sees Esme watching Rosalie and decides to take her leave. "I'm gonna join Avery and April," she says softly. "See if they'll let me play this time."

Esme nods and goes over to the window, settling on the window seat by the rocking chair. "She still asleep?" she asks.

"Yeah." Rosalie looks fondly at the baby in her arms. "Sometimes I still can't believe she's real. So I have to keep holding her to be sure."

"And I'm sure she loves every minute of it." Esme smooths her daughter's hair. "A mother's love is always the best thing for a child."

Rosalie looks up. "Or a scared pregnant girl who's afraid to speak anymore."

"You had good reason to be silent," Esme says gently. "And I hope you're beginning to understand that."

Rosalie nods. "The sessions with Dr. Carmen are definitely helping. I still can't believe my parents turned their backs on me, but it's getting easier to accept. I..." She glances at the window. "I don't think I'm ready to tell Emmett the whole story yet... about the boys' father, I mean... but I... I think that's okay."

"It is okay. And if you do decide to tell him, that will be okay too." Esme gasps as Emmett falls face-down in the snow to the extreme delight of his niece and nephews. "Because that man has loved you since the day he saw you with the boys at the park and will never do anything else."

Rosalie watches as the kids pile on top of him, their laughter ringing out loud and clear. "He's a true wonder, much like this little one here."

"She is definitely that." Esme tenderly rubs her head. "The little girl you always wanted."

"Yeah." Rosalie looks up at Esme, her eyes misty. "If I... If I can just love Dylan half as well as you've loved me... then I will consider myself a great mom."

"Oh, Rose..." Esme hugs her around her shoulders, happy tears threatening. "My precious, precious girl..."

"I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, honey." The two women rock in misty unison as snow begins to fall outside. "With all my heart."

With the boys now wrestling each other, Carlisle stands up and looks around, taking in the scene before him. His heart fills to overflowing at the scene of raucous domesticity, and he spots his wife and daughter huddling by the window. Sensing his gaze, Esme looks over at him and blows him a kiss, and he returns the gesture, awash with joy.

" _And she thought she only wanted two kids,"_ Carlisle thinks to himself with a grateful sigh. _"Thank God we don't always get what we want."_

* * *

 **Annnnnd... that's all she wrote!**

 **Thank you all SOOOO MUCH for spending the end of your 2018 with me! I pray 2019 is your best year yet, and who knows? Maybe I'll see you next year with something new...**

 **LOVE YOU, ALL! XOXO**


End file.
